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BAMBI 


BY 


MARJORIE BENTON COOKE 


AUTHOR OF 

DR. DAVID,” “ THE GIRL WHO LIVED IN THE WOODS,” ETC, 



Illustrated hy 

Mary Greene Blumenschein 


GARDEN CITY 


NEW YORK 


DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
1914 


-pZ-3 


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Copyright, 19H, hy 
The Phillips Publishing Co. 

Copyright, 191 If, hy 

Doubleday, Page & Company 

All rights reserved, including that of 
translation into foreign languages, 
including the Scandinavian 


SEP 29 1914 




©CI.A379732 


TO BAMBI 

With thanks to her for being Herself 

M. B. C. 


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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


She saw Jarvis before the curtain, making a first-night 
speech Coloured Frontispiece 

PACING PAGE 

Bambi fluttered the joy-bringing letter above her 
head and circled the breakfast-room in a whirl of 
happiness 54 

“ Good evening, Mrs. New York, and all you people 

out there! We’re here, Jarvis and I” ... 64 v/" 

“Well, believe me, that high-brow stuff is on the 


toboggan” WSy 

“Tell your husband to put you in a play, and I’ll 
put it on.” “Much obliged. I’ll tell him. Good 
morning” 130 

Her tale had the place of honour and was illustrated 
by James Montgomery Flagg, the supreme desire 
of every young writer 142 ^ 

“Softlings! Poor scftlings!” Jarvis muttered, 

Bambi’s words coming back to him . . . . 174 v/ 

“I have got to do something violent, Ardelia. I 


am going to jerk the stems off of berries, chop the 

pits out of cherries, and skin peaches” . . . 210 / 

He taught himself to abandon his old introspective 
habits during these days on the box .... 224 









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BAMBI 


I 



ROFESSOR JAMES PARKHURST, I con- 


sider you a colossal failure as an educator,” 


said Francesca, his daughter, known to 
friend and family as Bambina, or Bambi for short. 

Professor Parkhurst lifted a startled face from his 
newspaper and surveyed his only child across the 
breakfast table. 

‘‘My dear, what causes this sweeping assertion of 
my incompetence 

“Ido! Ido! Just what did you expect me to do 
when I grew up.? ” 

“Why, to be happy.” 

“ That’s the profession you intended me for.? Who’s 
to pay the piper.? It’s expensive to be happy and also 
unlucrative.” 

“I have always expected to support you until 
your husband claimed that privilege.” 

“Suppose I want a husband who can’t support me.? ” 

t 3 


4 


BAMBI 


“Dear me, that would be unfortunate. It is the 
first duty of a husband to support his wife.” 

“Old-fashioned husbands, yes — but not modern 
ones. Lots of men marry to be supported nowadays. 
How on earth could I support the man I love.?” 

“You are not without talents, my dear.” 

“Talents.? You almost said accomplishments ! If 
you were not living in the Pliocene age. Professor 
James Parkhurst, you would know that accomplish- 
ments are a curse — accomplishment is the only 
thing that counts. I can sing a little, play the piano 
a little, auction bridge a good deal; I can cook, and 
sew fancy things. The only thing I can do well is to 
dance, and no real man wants to be supported by his 
wife’s toes.” 

The Professor smiled mirthlessly. “Is this a gen- 
eral discussion, or are you leading to a specific point, 
Bambi.?” he inquired. 

“It’s a specific charge of incompetence against 
you and me. Why didn’t you teach me something? 
You know more about mathematics than the man 
who invented them, and I am not even sure that two 
and two make four.” 

“You’re young yet, my dear; you can learn. 
What is it you want to study?” 


BAMBI 


5 


“Success, and how to get it.” 

“Success, in the general sense of the word, has 
never seemed very important to me. To do your 
work well ” 

“Yes, I know. It is the fact that you have not 
thought success important that hampers me so in the 
choice of a husband.” 

“Bambina, that is the second time a husband has 
been mentioned in this discussion. Have you some 
individual under consideration.^” 

“I have. I have practically decided on him.” 

“You don’t tell me! Do I know the young 
man.^” 

“Oh, yes — Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

“He has proposed to you.^^” 

“Oh, no. He doesn’t know anything about it. 
I have just decided on him.” 

“But, my dear, he is penniless.” 

“That’s why I reproach you that you haven’t 
brought me up to support Jarvis in a luxury he will 
have to get used to.” 

“But why have you settled on this youth I 
seem to recall a great many young men who are 
always about. I presume they admire you. Cer- 
tainly this dreamer is the most ineligible of them all.” 


6 


BAMBI 


“Oh, that — yes. That’s why I must take him. 
He’ll starve to death unless some one takes him on, 
and looks after him.” 

“Isn’t there some asylum, perhaps.^” 

Bambi’s laugh rang out like a chime. 

“A home for geniuses. There’s an idea! No, 
Professor Parkhurst, Society does not yet provide 
for that particular brand of incompetents.” 

“It seems as if you were going rather far in your 
quixotism to marry him.” 

Again the girl laughed. 

“I total him up like this: fine family, good blood, 
decent habits, handsome, healthy, poetic. He might 
even be affectionate. His one fault is that he is not 
adjusted to modern commercial standards. He can- 
not make money, or he will not — it comes to the 
same thing.” 

“I am unable to see why you are elected to take 
care of him. He must fit his time, or perish. You 
don’t happen to be in love with him, do you.^” 

“ No, I — I think not. He interests me more than 
anybody. I suppose I am fond of him rather.” 

“Have you any reason for thinking him in love 
with you?” 

“ Mercy, no ! He hardly knows I’m alive. He uses 


BAMBI 7 

me for a conversational blotting-pad. That’s my 
only use in his eyes.” 

“He’s so very impractical.” 

“I am used to impractical men. I have taken 
care of you since I was five years old.” 

“Yes, my dear. But I am not trying to feed the 
world bread when it demands cheese.” 

“No, you are distinctly practical. You are only 
trying to prove a fourth dimension, when three have 
sufficed the world up to date.” 

“Yes, but ” 

“No buts. If it had not been for me you would 
have gone naked and been arrested, or have forgotten 
to eat and starved to death.” 

“Now, my dear Bambi, I protest ” 

“It will do you no good. Don’t I remember how 
you started off to meet your nine o’clock class clad 
in your pyjamas.^^” 

“Oh, my child!” 

“Don’t talk to me about impracticality. It’s my 
birthright.” 

“Well, I can prove to you ” 

“I never believe anything you have to prove. If 
I can’t see it, first thing, without any process, it isn’t 
true.” 


8 


BAMBI 


“But if you represent yourself as Y, and Jarvis as 
X, an unknown quantity ” 

“Professor Parkhurst, stop there! There’s noth- 
ing so unreliable as figures, and everybody but a 
mathematician knows that. Figures lie right to 
your face.” 

“Bambina, if you could coin your conversa- 
tion ” Professor Parkhurst began. 

“I am sorry to find you unreasonable about 
Jarvis, Professor.” 

He gazed at her, in his absent-minded^ startled 
.way. He had never understood her since she was 
first put into his hands, aged six months, a fluffy 
bundle of motherless babyhood. She never ceased 
to startle him. She was an enigma beyond any 
puzzle in mathematics he had ever brought his mind 
to bear upon. 

“How old are you, Bambina.^” 

“Shame on you, and you a mathematician. If 
James is forty-five, and Bambina is two thirds of 
half his age, how old is Bambi.^^ I’m nineteen.” 

His startled gaze deepened. 

“Oh, you cannot be!” he objected. 

“There you are. I told you figures lie. It says 
so in the family Bible, but maybe I’m only two.” 


BAMBI 


9 


“ Nineteen years old ! Dearie me ! ” 

“You see I’m quite old enough to know my own 
mind. Have you a nine o’clock class this morning.^ ” 

“I have.” 

“Well, hasten, Professor, or you’ll get a tardy 
mark. It’s ten minutes of nine now.” 

He jumped up from his chair and started for the 
door. 

“Don’t you want this notebook.^^” she called, tak- 
ing up the pad beside his plate. 

“Yes, oh, yes, those are my notes. Where have 
I laid my glasses.? Quick, my dear! I must not be* 
late.” 

“On your head,” said she. 

She followed him to the hall, reminded him of his 
hat, his umbrella, restored the notebook, and finally 
saw him off, his thin back, with its scholarly stoop, 
disappearing down the street. 

Bambina went back to the breakfast table, and 
took up the paper. She read all the want “ads” 
headed “female.” 

“Nothing promising here,” she said. “I wonder 
if I could bring myself to teach little kids one, two, 
and one, two, three, in a select dancing class? I’d 
loathe it.” 


10 BAMBI 

A ponderous black woman appeared in the door 
and filled it. 

“Is you froo.^” 

“Yes, go ahead, Ardelia.” 

“Hab the Perfessor gone already.?” 

“Yes, he’s gone.” 

“Well, he suttinly did tell me to remin’ him of 
suthin’ this mohnin’, and I cain’t des perzactly be- 
member what it was.” 

“Was it important.?” 

“Yassum. Seemed lak I bemember he tell me it 
was important.” 

“Serves him right for not telling me.” 

“It suttinly am queer the way he can’t bemember. 
Seem lak his haid so full of figgers, or what you call 
them, ain’ no room for nuthin’ else.” 

“You and father get zero in memory — that’s 
sure.” 

“I ain’t got no trubble dat way. Miss Bambi. I 
bemember everything, ’cepting wot you tell me to 
bemember.” 

The dining-room door flew open at this point, and 
a handsome youth, with his hair upstanding, and 
his clothes in a wrinkle, appeared on the threshold. 
Bambi rose and started for him. 


BAMBI 


11 


“Jarvis! ” she exclaimed. “What has happened.^ 
Where have you been.?” 

“Sleeping in the garden.” 

“Dat’s it — dat’s it! Dat was wat I was to remin’ 
the Perfessor of, dat a man was sleepin’ in the garden.” 

“Sleeping in our garden? But why?” 

“Because of the filthy commercialism of this age! 
Here I am, at the climax of my big play, a revolu- 
tionary play, I tell you, teeming with new and vital 
ideas, for a people on the down-slide, and a land- 
lady, a puny, insignificant ant of a female, interrupts 
me to demand money, and when I assure her, most 
politely, that I have none, she puts me out, actually 
puts me out!” 

Bambi choked back a laugh. 

“ Why didn’t you come here? ” 

“I did. Your father refused to see me; he was 
working at his crazy figures. I burst in, and de- 
manded you, but he couldn’t remember where you 
had gone.” 

“What a pity! Well ” 

“I told him I would wait in the garden. If neces- 
sary, I would sleep there.” 

“Yas’m, yas’m, dat’s when he called me in, to 
tell me to bemin’ him.” 


12 


BAMBI 


“That will do, Ardelia.” 

“Yassum,” said the handmaiden, and withdrew. 

“Now, go on.” 

“I was full of my big act, so I walked and walked 
for hours. Then I lay down in the summer-house, 
and I must have gone to sleep.” 

“Go up and take a bath, and come down to some 
breakfast. I will send Ardelia to get some of father’s 
things for you if you need them.” 

“All right, but don’t delay with breakfast. If I 
don’t get this act down, I may lose it. That fiend, 
in female guise, held my paper.” 

“Go on! Get ready!” 

He plunged out, and Bambi went to send Ardelia 
to him, while she cooked his eggs and fried his bacon. 
As she worked, she smiled, out of sheer amusement. 

In due course of time, he appeared, freshened up, 
and with renewed eagerness to be at work. He 
scarcely noticed Bambina as she served his breakfast. 
He ate as if he were starved. 

“I suppose the landlady held your clothes.^” 

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. It was unim- 
portant.” 

“How much do you owe her.^” 

He looked at her in surprise. 


BAMBI 


13 


“I have no idea.” 

“Have you any money at all.^” 

“Certainly not. I’d have given it to her if I had, 
so she wouldn’t interrupt me.” 

“ What are you going to do.^ ” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I can’t think about it now. 
I am full of this big idea. It’s a dramatization of 
the Brotherhood of Man, of a sublime, socialistic 
world ” 

“Has it occurred to you, ever, Jarvis, that the 
world isn’t ready for the Brotherhood of Man yet.^ 
It’s just out of the tent stage, where War is the whole 
duty of Man.” 

“But it must be ready,” he urged, seriously, “for 
I am here with my message.” 

She smiled at him as one would at a conceited 
child. 

“Poor old Jarvis, strayed out of Elysian fields! 
Were you thinking of sleeping in the summer-house 
permanently.^” 

. “Oh, it doesn’t matter; only the play matters. 
Give me some paper, Bambi, and let me get to work.” 

She rose and went to stand before him. 

“Would you mind looking at me.^^” 

He turned his eyes on her. 


14 


BAMBI 


“Not just your eyes, Jarvis. Look at me with 
your mind.” 

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, slightly 
irritated. 

“Do you like my looks?” 

“I’ve never noticed them.” 

“That’s what I’m asking you to do. Look me 
over.” 

He stared at her. 

“Yes, you’re pretty — you’re very pretty. Some 
people might call you beautiful.” 

“Don’t overdo it, Jarvis! Have you ever noticed 
my disposition?” 

“No — yes. Well, I know you’re patient, and you 
must be good-natured.” 

“I am. I am also healthy and cheerful.” 

“I don’t doubt it. Where is the paper?” 

She put her hands on his shoulders and shook 
him gently. 

“Jarvis, I want you to give me your full attention 
for five minutes.” 

“What ails you to-day, Bambi?” 

“The only thing I lack is a useful education, so 
that I am not sure I can make a very big living just 
at first, unless I dance on the stage.” 


BAMBI 


15 


“What are you driving at?” 

“Would you have any special objection to marry- 
ing me, Jarvis?” 

“Marrying you? Are you crazy?” 

“Obviously. Have you?” 

“Certainly I won’t marry you. I am too busy. 
You disappoint me, Bambi; you do, indeed. I al- 
ways thought you were such a sensible girl ” 

“Father can help out a little, at first, but I may as 
well tell you, he doesn’t approve of you as a son-in- 
law.” 

“I don’t approve of him, impractical dreamer! 
Where is that paper?” 

“You’ve got to be taken care of until you get an 
awful tumble. Then you will wake up and do big 
things, but in the meantime you must eat.” 

“You talk nonsense, and you’re interrupting me. 
If I don’t get at that scene ” 

“Will you marry me? I can’t take care of you if 
you don’t, because the neighbours will talk.” 

“I won’t marry you. I don’t love you.” 

“No more do I love you. That’s got nothing to 
do with it. Here’s one of father’s empty notebooks. 
Say yes, and you can have it.” 

His eyes fairly glistened as they fell on the book. 


16 


BAMBI 


“For heaven’s sake, don’t torture me. Give me 
the book and have it your own way, whatever it is 
you want.” 

She laughed, gave him the book, and he was at 
the table instantly, sweeping back the dishes with a 
ruthless hand. 

“No, no, into the study you go, while I make a 
descent on your landlady, rescue your clothes, and 
get the license and the minister, my liege lord.” 

She settled him at his desk, where he was immedi- 
ately lost to his surroundings. 

Bambi slipped out noiselessly, dressed for the 
street, humming a little song, and presently de- 
parted. 

Meanwhile, his first recitations being over, the 
Professor returned for two hours’ research in his 
study, to find Jarvis ensconced there, oblivious to 
the outside world. “ Go away, go away ! ” he shouted 
to Professor Parkhurst. 

“I’ll trouble you to get out of my study,” said the 
Professor. 

“You’ll get your filthy money in due time, my 
good woman, so go away! ” cried Jarvis. 

“Whom are you addressing Good woman, in- 
deed!” 


BAIVIBI 17 

At this moment Bambi returned, and sensed the 
situation. 

“Oh, I didn’t expect you back. Father Professor. 
This is Jarvis. You see he’s come. He has no objec- 
tion at all to my marrying him, so I got a minister.” 

“A minister.^ You got him.^” 

“Yes, you see Jarvis is busy. There is no need 
of our waiting, so we are going to be married in half 
an hour or so.” 

“To-day.? Here.?” 

“Yes, right here, as soon as Jarvis finishes this 
scene.” 

“Is he going to occupy my library permanently.?” 
wailed the Professor. 

“No, no. I’ll fix him a place on the top floor.” 

“He’s not at all my choice,” said Professor 
Parkhurst firmly, gazing at the unconscious Joce- 
lyn. “You can see by the way he tosses paper 
about that he is neither methodical nor orderly.” 

“Those are husband traits that I can do without, 
thank you.” 

Ardelia appeared. 

“ ’Scuse me, but yo’ all expectin’ the preacher up 
here.? He say Miss Bambi tol’ him to cum here at 
eleben o’clock.” 


18 BAMBI 

“Yes, show him right in here.*’ 

“ Yassum.” 

Ardelia reappeared with the Reverend Dr. Short 
at her heels. Bambi greeted him, and Professor 
Parkhurst shook hands absently, j Bambi went to 
lean over Jarvis. He suddenly threw down his pen, 
stretched himself, and groaned. 

“Now, if I can just get the last act outlined ’* 

“Jarvis, just a minute, please.” 

He suddenly looked at her, and at the other two. 

“This is Reverend Dr. Short, Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

“I have nothing to say to orthodoxy,” Jarvis 
began, but Bambi interrupted him. 

“Doctor Short has come to marry us. Stand up. 
here for a few moments, and then you can go on 
with your third act.” 

She laid her hand on his arm, and drew him to his 
feet. 

“The shortest possible service, please. Doctor 
Short. Jarvis is so busy to-day.” 

Doctor Short looked from the strange pair to Pro- 
fessor Parkhurst, who looked back at him. 

“You are sure this is all right. he questioned. 

“Do tell him to be quick, Bambi. If it’s about 
that landlady I cannot ” 


BAMBI 


19 


“ ’Sh! Go ahead, Doctor Short.” 

Doctor Short read the service, and between the three 
of them they induced Jarvis to make the proper 
responses. He seemed utterly unaware of what was 
going on about him, and at the end of a brief service, 
when Bambi’s hand was taken from his arm, he sat 
down to work at once. Bambi led the other two men 
from the room. 

“He acted as if he were drunk, or drugged, but he 
isn’t.. He’s just full of an idea,” she smilingly ex- 
plained. 

“Have you known this young man long?” Doctor 
Short asked the Professor. 

“Have we, my dear?” 

“We have known him fifteen years,” she answered. 

“Well, of course that makes a difference,” mur- 
mured the reverend gentleman. “I wish you every 
happiness, Mrs. Jocelyn,” he added, and took his 
departure. 

“How soon can you get him out of my study?” 
asked the Professor, looking at his watch. “I have 
only one hour left before lunch.” 

“Felicitate me. Professor, felicitate me on my mar- 
riage.” 

“I hope you will be happy, my dear, but I doubt 


20 BAMBI 

it. His lack of consideration in taking my 
study ” 

Bambina looked at him, and began to laugh. Peal 
followed peal of laughter until tears stood in her 
eyes. 

“I’ll go rescue the study, Herr Professor. Oh, 
this is too rich ! Bernard Shaw ought to know about 
me,” she laughed, as she tripped upstairs. 

So it was that Bambina acquired a husband. 


II 


wo days later Jarvis, shaved, properly 



dressed, and apparently sane, appeared on 


the piazza, where Bambi and the Professor 
were at lunch. He hesitated on the threshold 
until they both turned toward him. 

“Good morning,” he ventured. 

“ Good morning, Jarvis,” said Bambi gayly. 

“Morning,” tersely, from the head of the house. 

“Might I ask how long I have been sojourning 
on the top floor of this house, and how I got 
there?” 

“Do you mean to say you don’t know?” 

“Haven’t an idea. I have a faint recollection of 
a big disturbance, and then peace, heavenly peace, 
with black coffee every once in a while, and big 
ideas flowing like Niagara.” 

Bambina’s eyes shone at him, but her father 
looked troubled. 

“You know what the big disturbance was, don’t 
you?” he asked. 


21 


22 


BAMEI 


‘‘It seems to me I wanted paper — that somebody 
was taking my things away ’’ 

“You’d better tell him, Francesca; he doesn’t 
remember, so I don’t think it can be legal.” 

Jarvis looked from one to the other. 

“What’s all this.^ I don’t seem to get you.” 

Bambi’s laugh bubbled over. 

“You get me, all right.” 

“For goodness’ sake, talk sense.” 

“You came here, three days ago, in a trance, and 
announced that you had been bounced from the 
boarding-house, and that you needed paper to blot 

up the big ideas — the Niagara ideas ” 

“Didl.?^” 

“So I took you in, redeemed your clothes for 
you ” 

“It was you who planted me upstairs in that heav- 
enly quiet place, and brought black coffee 

She nodded. 

“God bless you for it.” 

“I did something else, too.” 

“Did you? What?” 

“I married you.” 

He looked at her, dazed, and then at the Professor. 

“ What’s the joke? ” he asked. 


BAMBI 


23 


“There is no joke/’ said the Professor sternly. 
“She did it. I tried to stop her, but she never lis- 
tens to me.” 

“Do you mean, Bambi ” he began. 

“I mean you told me to go ahead, so I got a license 
and a minister, and married you.” 

“But where was I when you did it.?” 

“You were there, I thought, but it didn’t seem to 
take. Can’t you remember anything at all about 
it, Jarvis.?” 

“Not a thing. Word of honour! How long have 
we been married.?” 

“Three days. You couldn’t come out of the play, 
so I dragged you upstairs, fed you at stated periods, 
and let you alone.” 

He looked at her as if for the first time. 

“Why, Bambi,” he said, “you are a wonderful 
person.” 

“I have known it all along,” she replied, sweetly. 

“But why, in God’s name, did you do it?” 

“That’s what I say,” interpolated the Professor. 

“Oh, it just came to me when I saw you needed 
looking after ” 

“Don’t you believe it. She intended to do it all 
along,” said her father, grimly. “I tried to dissuade 


24 


BAMBI 


her. I told her you were a dreamer, penniless, and 
always would be, but she wouldn’t listen to my 
practical talk.” 

“I seem to get a pretty definite idea of your opin- 
ion of me, sir. Why didn’t you wake me up, so I 
could prevent this catastrophe?” 

“I supposed you were awake. I didn’t know you 
worked in a cataleptic fit.” 

“Catastrophe!” echoed Bambina. 

“Certainly. Why don’t you look at it in a prac- 
tical way, as your father says? I never had any 
money. I probably never will. I hate the stuff. 
It’s the curse of the age.” 

“I know all that.” 

“You will be wanting food and clothes no doubt, 
and you will expect me to provide them.” 

“Oh, never! You don’t think I would take such 
an advantage of you, Jarvis, as to marry you when 
you were in a work fit and then expect you to support 
me?” 

The Professor shook his head in despair, and arose. 

“It’s beyond me, all this modern madness. I wash 
my hands of the whole affair.” 

“ That’s right. Professor Parkhurst. I married him, 
you know; you didn’t.” 


BAMEI 


25 


“Well, keep him out of my study,” he warned. 

Then he gathered up his scattered belongings, and 
turned his absent gaze on Bambi. 

“What is it I want? Oh, yes. Call Ardelia.” 

Bambi rang, and Ardelia answered the summons. 

“Ardelia, did I ask you to remind me of anything 
this morning?” 

She scratched her head in deep thought. 

“No, sah, not’s as I recolleck. It was yistiddy you 
toF me to remin’ you, and I done forgot what it was.” 

“Ardelia, you are not entirely reliable,” he re- 
marked, as he passed her. 

“No, sah. I ain’t jes’ what you call ” she 

muttered, following him out. 

Bambi brought up the rear, chuckling over this 
daily controversy, which never failed to amuse her. 

When the front door slammed, she came back to 
where Jarvis sat, his untouched luncheon before him. 
He watched her closely as she flashed into the room, 
like some swift, vivid bird perching opposite him. 

“I spoiled your luncheon,” she laughed. 

“Bambi, why did you do this thing?” 

“Good heavens, I don’t know. I did it because 
I’m I, I suppose.” 

“You wanted to marry me?” he persisted. 


26 


BAMEI 


“I thought I ought to. Somebody had to look 
after you, and I am used to looking after father. I 
like helpless men.” 

“So you were sorry for me.? It was pity ” 

“Rubbish. I believe in you. If you have a chance 
to work out your salvation you will be a big man. 
If you are hectored to death, you will kill yourself, 
or compromise, and that will be the end of you.” 

“You see that — you understand ” 

He pushed back his chair and came to her. 

“You think that little you can stand between me 
and these things that I must compromise with? ” 

She nodded at him, brightly. He leaned over, 
took her two small hands, and leaned his face against 
them. 

“Thank you,” he said, simply; “but I won’t have 
it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I am not worth it. You saw me in a 
work fit. I’m a devil. I’m like one possessed. I 
swear and rave if I am interrupted. I can’t eat nor 
sleep till I get the madness out of me. I am not 
human. I am not normal. I am not fit to live 
with.” 

“Very well, we will build a cage at the top of the 


BAMBI 


27 


house, and when you feel a fit coming on you can 
go up there. I’ll slip you food through a wire door 
so you can’t bite me, and I’ll exhibit you for a fee as 
the wildest genius in captivity.” 

“Bambi, be serious. This is no joke. This is 
awful!” 

“You consider it awful to be married to me? ” 

“I am not thinking of myself. I am thinking of 
you. You have got yourself into a pretty mess, and 
I’ve got to get you out of it.” 

“How?” 

“I’ll divorce you.” 

“You’ve got no grounds. I’ve been a kind, duti- 
ful wife to you. I haven’t been near you since I 
married you, except to give you food.” 

“How do you expect we are to live? Nobody 
wants my plays. ” 

“How do you know? You never try to sell them. 
You told me so yourself. You feel so superior to 
managers and audiences that you never offer them.” 

“I know. I occasionally go to the theatre, by 
mistake, and I see what they want.” 

“That’s no criterion. We won’t condemn even a 
Broadway manager until he proves himself such a 
dummy as not to want your plays.” 


28 


BAMBI 


“Broadway? Think of a play of mine on Broad- 
way ! Think of the fat swine who waddle into those 
theatres!” 

“My dear, there are men of brains writing for 
the theatre to-day who do not scorn those swine.” 

“Men of brains? Who, who, I ask you?” 

“Bernard Shaw.” 

“Showman, trickster.” 

“Barrie.” 

“Well, maybe.” 

“Pinero?” 

“Pinero knows his trade,” he admitted. 

“Galsworthy, Brieux.” 

“Galsworthy is a pamphleteer. Brieux is no 
artist. He is a surgeon. They have nothing to say 
to Broadway. Broadway swallows the pills they 
offer because of their names, but they might just as 
well give them the sugar drip they want, for all the 
good it does.” 

“Well, they get heard, anyhow. WhaPs the use 
of writing a play if it isn’t acted? Of course we’ll 
sell your plays.” 

“But if we don’t, where will you be?” 

“Oh, I’ll be all right. I mean to support myself, 
anyhow, and you, too, if the plays don’t go.” 


BAMBI 


29 


He laughed. 

“You are an amusing mite. Queer I never no- 
ticed you before.” 

“You’ll like me, if you continue to be aware of me. 
I’m nice,” she laughed up at him, and he smiled 
back. 

“How do you intend to make this fortune, may 
I ask?” 

“I haven’t decided yet. Of course I can dance. 
If worst came to worst, I can make a big salary 
dancing.” 

“Dancing?” he exploded. 

“Yes, didn’t you ever hear of it? With the feet, 
you know, and the body, and the eyes, and the arms. 
So!” 

She twirled about him in a circle, like a gay little 
figurine. He watched her, fascinated. 

“You can dance, can’t you?” 

“I can. At times I am quite inspired. Now, if 
you and the Professor will be sensible, and let me go 
to New York and take a job, I could support us all 
in luxury. You could write and he could figure.” 

“I don’t see that it is apy business of ours what 
you do, but I certainly won’t let you support me.” 

“Do you really mean it isn’t your business?” 


30 


BAMBI 


“Why should it be?” 

“Well, if I am your wife, and his daughter, some 
people would think that it was distantly related to 
your business.” 

“ Why New York? Why not here? ” 

“In this town they think I am crazy now. But if 
I burst out as a professional dancer Wow!” 

“That’s so. It’s a mean little town, but it’s 
quiet. That’s why I stay. It’s quiet.” 

“You wouldn’t mind my being away, if I went to 
New York, would you?” 

“Oh, no. I’d be busy.” 

“That’s good. I really think you are almost ideal.” 

“Ideal?” 

“As a husband. They are usually so exacting and 
interfering.” 

“I’ve not decided yet to be your husband.” 

“But you are it.” 

“Suppose you should fall in love with somebody 
else?” 

“I’m much more apt to fall in love with you.” 

“Heaven forbid 1” he exclaimed, and came to her 
side quickly. “Bambi, promise me that no matter 
what happens you will not do that. You will not 
fall in love with me.” 


BAMBI 31 

She looked at him a minute, and then laughed 
contagiously. 

“I am serious about this. My work is everything 
to me. Nothing matters but just that, and it might 
be a dreadful interruption if you fell in love with me.’’ 

“I don’t see why, unless you fell in love with me.” 

“No danger of that,” said he, and at her laugh 
turned to her again. “If ever you see any signs of 
my being such a fool as that, you warn me, will you.^ ’ 

“And what will you do then?” 

“ I’ll run away. I will go to the ends of the earth. 
That particular madness is death to creative genius.” 

“All right. I’ll warn you.” 

“I’ve got to begin to polish my first draft to-day, 
so I’ll go upstairs and get at it.” 

“Will you be gone two days this trip?” 

He turned to smile at her. 

“Some people would think you were eccentric,” 
he said. 

“They might,” she responded. 

“I am almost sane when I polish,” he laughed. 
“It’s only when I create that I am crazy.” 

“It’s all right then, is it? We go on?” 

“Go on?” 

“Being married? ” 


32 


BAMBI 


“Well, I have no objection, if you insist, but you’d 
better think over what I told you. I think you have 
made a mistake; and you shall never support me.” 

“I never think over my mistakes,” said Bambi. 
“I just live up to them.” 

“I agree with your father that you risk a good 
deal.” 

“Bisks are exciting.” 

“If you don’t like it, you can divorce me the next 
time I am in a work fit. I’ll never know it, so it 
will be painless.” 

“Jarvis, that’s unfair.” 

He came back quickly. 

“That was intended for humour,” he explained. 

“I so diagnosed it,” she flashed back at him. 

He looked down at her diminutive figure with its 
well-shaped, patrician head, its sensitive mouth, its 
wide-set, shining eyes. 

“Star-shine,”' he smiled. 

She poked him with a sharp “What?” 

“You don’t think I ought to — to — kiss you, pos- 
sibly, do you?” 

“Mercy, no!” 

“ Good ! I was afraid you might expect something 
of me.” 


BAMBI 


33 


“ Oh, no. Think what you have done for the girl,” 
she quoted, and he heard her laugh down the hall 
and out into the garden. He took a step as if to 
follow her. Then, with a nhake of his shoulders, he 
climbed the stairs to his new workshop with a smile 
on his lips. 


Ill 


T he Professor was working in his garden. It 
was one of his few relaxations, and he took 
it as seriously as a problem. He had great 
success with flowers, owing to what he called his 
system. He was methodical as a machine in every- 
thing he did, so the plants were fed with the regular- 
ity of hospital patients, and flourished accordingly. 
To-day he was in pursuit of slugs. He followed up 
one row, and down the next, slaying with the ruth- 
lessness of fate. 

The general effect of his garden was rather striking. 
He laid out each bed in the shape of an arithmetical 
figure. The pansy beds were in figure eights, the 
nasturtiums were pruned and ordered into stubby 
figure ones, while the asters and fall flowers ranged 
from fours to twenties. 

The Professor carried his arithmetical sense to 
extremes. He insisted that figures had personality, 
just as people have, and it was a favourite method of 
his to nickname his friends and pupils according to a 

34 


BAMBI 


35 


numeral. He was watching the death-throes of a 
slug, with scientific indifference, as his son-in-law 
approached him, carrying a wide-brimmed hat. 

“Professor Parkhurst, your daughter desires you 
to put on your hat. You forgot it.” 

“ Oh, yes. Thank you ! ” 

“I should like the opportunity of a few words with 
you, sir, if you can spare the time.” 

“Well, I cannot. My time is very precious. If 
you desire to walk along with me while I destroy 
these slugs, I will listen to what you say.” 

He pursued his course, and Jarvis, perforce, fol- 
lowed. 

“I have been in your house for a week, now. Pro- 
fessor Parkhurst, and I have merely encountered 
you at meals.” 

“Often enough,” said the Professor, making a 
sudden turn that almost upset Jarvis. “I go fifty 
steps up, and fifty steps back,” he explained, and 
Jarvis stared at him open-mouthed. 

“You count your steps?” he repeated. 

“Certainly, no matter what I do, I count. When 
I eat, when I sleep, walk, talk, think, I always 
count.” 

“How awful! A human metronome. I must 


36 BAMBI 

make a note of that/’ And Jarvis took out a note- 
book to make an entry. 

“You have the notebook habit?” snorted the 
Professor. 

“Yes, I can’t afford to waste ideas, suggestions, 
thoughts.” 

“Bah! A most offensive habit.” 

“I gather, from your general attitude,” Jarvis 
began again, “that you dislike me.” 

“ I neither like nor dislike you. I don’t know you.” 

“You never will know me, at this rate.” 

“I am not sure that I care to.” 

“Why not? What have you against me?” 

“You are not practical.” 

“Do you consider yourself practical?” 

“I do. I am the acme of practical. I am mathe- 
matical.” 

He slew another bug. 

“How can you do that?” cried Jarvis, his concern 
in his face. “That slug has a right to life. Why 
don’t you get the point of view of the slug?” 

“He kills my roses,” justified the Professor. “He’s 
a murderer. Society has a right to extinguish him.” 

“The old fallacy, a tooth for a tooth?” 

“You’d sacrifice my roses to save this insect?” 


BAMBI 


37 


“I’d teach the rose to take care of itself.” 

“You’re crazy,” he snapped, and walked on, Jar- 
vis at his heels. 

“I didn’t come to quarrel with you about our 
views of gardening, or of life. I realize that we have 
no common ground. You are of the Past, and I am 
of the Future.” 

“There is nobody more modern than I am!” cried 
the Professor. 

“Rubbish! No modern wastes his life in rows of 
inanimate numerals . W e get out and work at human- 
ity and its problems.” 

“What are the problems of humanity?” 

“Food, employment, education, health.” 

“All of them mathematical. Economics is math- 
ematical.” 

“Well, I wish instead of teaching a few thousand 
students higher algebra that you had taught your 
own daughter a little common sense.” 

“Common sense is not taught. It is a gift of the 
gods, like genius,” said the Professor. 

Jarvis glanced at him quickly, and took out the 
notebook. 

“Put that thing away!” shouted the Professor. 
“I will not be annotated.” 


38 


BAMBI 


Jarvis meekly returned it to his pocket, but as the 
Professor right-about faced, he exploded: 

“For heaven’s sake, sit down and listen to me! 
This mathematical progression makes me crazy.” 

“I have just so many rows to do,” the Professor 
replied, as he marched along. “Do I understand 
you to criticise my daughter’s education?” 

“I don’t know anything about her education. I 
didn’t know she had one,” said Jarvis, “but this 
whim of hers, in marrying me, is very trying to me. 
It is most upsetting.” 

“Have it annulled. It can’t possibly be legal.” 

“She won’t hear of it. She desires to be married 
to me.” 

The Professor rose and faced him. 

“Then you may as well resign yourself. I have 
lived with her nineteen years and I know.” 

“But it is absurd that a child like that should 
always have her own way. You have spoiled 
her.” 

Even the Professor’s bent back showed pity. 

“You have a great deal to learn, young man.” 

“Can’t you persuade her to divorce me?” 

“I cannot. I tried to persuade her to do that be- 
fore she married you.” 


BAMBI 39 

“I suppose you think I ought to make a living 
for her?” 

“At the risk of being called a back number, I do.” 

“Just when I am beginning to count.” 

Count ? Count what ? ’ ’ 

“Count as a creative artist.” 

“Just what is it you do, Jocelyn?” 

“I try to express the Philosophy of Modernism 
through the medium of the Drama.” 

“Who buys it?” 

“Nobody.” 

“How are you beginning to count, then?” 

“Oh, not in the market-place. In my own soul.” 

“Forty-nine, fifty,” said the Professor. “Turn 
here. In your own soul, you say?” He glanced 
at the youth beside him. “ Bambi has sold her birth- 
right for a mess of pottage,” he muttered. 

“That’s just the question. Whose duty is it to 
provide the pottage? ” 

“Maybe you think it’s mine?” 

“Why shouldn’t Science support Art?” 

‘ ‘ Humph ! Why not let B ambi support you ? She 
says she wants to.” 

“I am willing she should support herself, but not 


40 


BAMBI 


“So the only question is, will I support you?” 

“Exactly. With Bambi off your hands, you will 
have no other responsibility, and you could not do a 
bigger thing for the world than to help me to instruct 
and inspire it.” 

“Aristophanes!” exclaimed the Professor. “You 
are unique! You are number twenty- three.” 

“Why twenty-three?” 

“Because that is neither much nor little.” 

“Your daughter thinks my plays will sell, but I 
tell you frankly I doubt it.” 

“How can you instruct and inspire if nobody 
listens?” 

“They must listen in the end, else why am I 
here?” 

The Professor relinquished his chase, to stare 
again. “You are at least sincere in your belief in 
yourself — twenty-three. I’d like to hear some of 
these great ideas of yours.” 

“Very well. I am going to read a play to your 
daughter this evening. If you care to come, you 
may listen. Then you will see that it would pay 
you to stake me for a couple of years.” 

“I’ll come and listen.” 

“If you decide to undertake me, I insist that you 


BAMBI 41 

shall not continue this scornful avoidance of me. If 
we three are to live together, we must live in har- 
mony, which is necessary to my work.” 

“Whose favour is this, yours or mine.^” 

“Favour.^ Good heavens! you don’t think it is a 
favour to give me food and a roof for two years, 
do you? I thought it was an opportunity for 
you.” 

The Professor, not easily moved to mirth, did an 
imitation of laughter, holding both his sides. Jarvis 
turned his charming, boyish smile upon him, and 
walked up the path to the house. Strange what 
things amused Bambi and her parent 1 

That night, after dinner, Bambi arranged the 
electric reading light in the screened porch, drew a 
big chair beside it, placed the Professor’s favourite 
chaise-lounge near by, and got him into it. Then 
she went in search of her performer. She looked 
all over the house for him, to finally discover him on 
the top fioor in hiding. 

“Come on! I’ve got everything all ready, even 
the Professor.” 

“I am terrified,” Jarvis admitted. “Suppose you 
should not understand what I have written? Sup- 
pose you thought it was all rubbish?” 


42 


BAMBI 


“If I think so, I will say so. Isn’t that the idea? 
You are trying it on the dog to see if it goes?” 

“If you think it is rubbish, don’t say anything.” 

“How silly! If you are spending your time on 
trash, you ought to know it, and get over it, and 
begin to write sense.” 

“I feel like one of the Professor’s slugs,” he mut- 
tered. 

“Better try us on the simplest one.” 

“Well, I will read you ‘Success.’ ” 

She ran downstairs, and he followed, to the piazza. 

There was no sign of the Professor. 

“ Ardelia,” called Bambi, “ where is the Professor? ” 

“I don’t know, ma’am. I seen him headed for the 
garden.” 

“Professor Parkhurst, come in here!” Bambi 
called. “We are to hear Jarvis’s play.” 

“Oh, that is it. I couldn’t remember why I was 
placed in that chair, and Ardelia couldn’t remember. 
So it occurred to me that I had forgotten my trowel,” 
he said. He put the trowel, absent-mindedly, in 
the tea basket, and took the seat arranged for 
Jarvis. 

“Here, you sit in your regular seat,” Bambi ob- 
jected, hauling him up. 


BAMBI 43 

“That isn’t wise, my dear. I am sure to go to 
sleep.” 

“We’ll see that you don’t,” she laughed. 

“I’ve never heard a play read aloud that I can re- 
member,” said the Professor. 

“You will probably be very irritating, then. Don’t 
interrupt me. If you fumble things, or make a 
noise. I’ll stop.” 

“That knowledge helps some,” retorted the Pro- 
fessor, with a twinkle. “If I can’t stand it. I’ll 
whistle.” 

“Be quiet,” said his daughter. “Go ahead, Jar- 
vis.” 

“What is this play supposed to be about?” Pro- 
fessor Parkhurst inquired. 

“The title is ‘Success.’ It is about a woman who 
sold herself for success, and paid with her soul.” 

“Is it a comedy?” 

“Good Lord, no! I don’t try to make people 
laugh. I make them think.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Don’t interrupt again, father.” 

Jarvis began to read, nervously at first, then with 
greater confidence. He read intelligently, but with- 
out dramatic value, and Bambi longed to seize the 


44 


BAMBI 


manuscript and do it herself. Once, during the first 
act, the Professor cleared his throat. 

“Don’t do that!” said Jarvis, without pausing for 
the Professor’s hasty apology. 

The play told the story of a woman whose God was 
Success. She sacrificed everything to him. First 
her mother and father were offered up, that she might 
have a career. Then her lover. She married a man 
she did not love, that she might mount one step 
higher, and finally she sacrificed her child to her 
devouring ambition. When she reached the goal 
she had visioned from the first, she was no longer a 
human being, with powers of enjoyment or suffering. 
She was, instead, a monster, incapable of appreci- 
ating what she had won, and in despair she killed 
herself. 

There were big scenes, some bold, telling strokes, 
in Jarvis’s handling of his theme. Again, it was 
utterly lacking in drama. The author stopped the 
action and took to the pulpit. 

At the end of the first act he stopped and looked 
at the faces of his audience. The Professor was 
awake and deeply puzzled. This strange young 
man was holding up to his view a perfectly strange 
anomaly which he called a woman. The Professor 


BAMBI 45 

had never dreamed of such a hybrid. He couldn’t 
grasp it. He gasped at Jarvis’s audacity. 

Bambi sat curled up in the end of a wicker couch, 
her feet drawn under her, like a Chinese idol, every 
nerve attuned to attention. He noticed how, with- 
out words, she seemed to emanate responsiveness and 
understanding. 

“Well?” he said. 

“Let’s wait until you have finished to discuss it,” 
she said. 

“Is it any good?” 

“In spots it’s great. In other spots it is incred- 
ibly rotten.” 

“My child,” protested the Professor. 

“Go on!” she ordered. 

The second act began well, mounted halfway to its 
climax, and fell flat. Some of the lines, embodying 
the new individualistic philosophy of woman, roused 
the Professor to protest. 

“Rubbish, sir!” he cried. “Impossible rubbish! 
No woman ever thought such things.” 

“Take your nose out of your calculus, and look 
about you. Professor,” retorted Jarvis. “ You haven’t 
looked around since the stone age.” 

Bambi gurgled with laughter, then looked serious. 


f 


46 


BAMEI 


“He’s fallen on an idea just the same, Jarvis. 
Your woman isn’t convincing.” 

“But she’s true,” he protested. 

“We don’t care a fig whether she’s true, unless she’s 
true to us,” she answered him. “Go on with your 
last act.” 

“You don’t like it — what’s the use.^^” 

“Don’t be silly. I am deeply interested. Go on ! ” 

He began a little hopelessly, feeling the atmos- 
phere, by that subtle sense that makes the creative 
artist like a sensitive plant where his work is at 
stake. The third act failed to ascend, or to resolve 
the situation. He merely carried it as far as it in- 
terested him, and then dropped it. As he closed the 
manuscript Bambi reached out her hand for it. 

“Give it to me, in my hand!” she ordered. He 
obeyed, questioningly. 

“I feel as if it was such a big thing, mangled and 
bleeding. I want to hold it and help it.” 

“Mangled?” 

“Yes. Don’t you feel it? She isn’t a woman! 
She’s a monster. You don’t believe her. You won’t 
believe her, because you hate her.” 

“But she’s true. She lives to-day. She is the 
woman of now,” he repeated. 


BAMBI 


47 


“No, no, no! Woman may approximate this, 
but she doesn’t reason it out. Let her be fine, and 
big, and righteously ambitious. Make us sympa- 
thize with her.” 

“But I am preaching against her.” 

“All the better. Make her a tragedy. Show the 
futility of it all. She didn’t kill herself. You killed 
her.” 

“Do you write plays?” he asked her. 

“No, but I feel drama. This is big, but it is all 
man psychology. You don’t know your woman.” 

“I should hope not,” said the Professor. “You 
needn’t tell me there are such women in the world. 
She is worse than Lucretia Borgia.” 

“Of course she is in the world. Father Professor. 
You haven’t looked at a woman since mother died, 
nineteen years ago, so you are not strictly up-to-date.” 

“I have hundreds of young women in my classes.” 

“Learning Euclid,” interpolated Jarvis. 

“Well, Euclid is more desirable than what your 
heroine learned and taught.” 

“Not at all. She learned life.” 

The Professor turned to Bambi. 

“Have you any ideas in common with this person, 
my dear?” 


48 


BAMBI 


“Oh, yes, some. All of us are freebooters in this 
generation.’’ 

“Why have you never spoken to me of them?” 

“Oh, Professor, I never bother you with ideas. 
Jarvis, I think if you do it over, you could sell 
it.” 

“I hate doing things over — the spontaneity all 
gone.” 

“Well, you’ve got to do it over, that’s all. You’ve 
murdered that woman, and it is wicked. She must 
be resuscitated and given another chance.” 

“Will you help me?’* 

She looked at him with a quick flash of pleasure. 

“ Oh, I would so love to. I can’t help you build it, 
but I can tell you what I feel is wrong.” 

“We will begin to-morrow.” 

“Are all your works as extreme as this?” queried 
the Professor. 

“They are all cross-sections of life, which is ex- 
treme,” replied Jarvis. 

“You young people read riddles into life. It is 
as simple as two plus two is four.” 

“There you are — two plus two does not neces- 
sarily make four. It makes five or forty. It de- 
pends on the symbols. Nothing in the world is 


BAMEI 49 

exact, or final. Everything is changeable, fluidic. 
That’s the whole fabric of modern thought.” 

The Professor’s horrified glance was turned upon 
them. 

“Oh, dear, oh, dear, there you go, upsetting every- 
thing. You are a pair of maniacs, both of you. You 
ought to be shut away from people, with your wild 
ideas.” 

He rushed out into his garden, sure of its calm, its 
mathematical exactness. He was really disturbed 
by the ultra-modern theories these ardent young 
iconoclasts forced him to consider. 

“Poor Father Professor,” laughed Bambi, at his 
retreat. 

“ Why do you let him stay back there in the Middle 
Ages?” 

“He’s happier there. It’s peaceful. Modern 
times distress him so when he remembers them.” 

“I suppose you are not an average family, are 
you?” he asked. 

“I suppose not,” she admitted. 

“You are irritating, but interesting.^’ 

“I warn you to let father alone. He’s too old to 
be hauled up-to-date. Just consider him an inter- 
esting survival and let him be.” 


50 


BAMEI 


“I’ll let him be. I’ll put him in a play. He’s 
good copy.” 

“He’ll never know himself, so it won’t matter.” 

They talked late about Jarvis’s work, his methods 
of writing, the length of time it took him to conceive 
and work out a play. It all fascinated Bambi. She 
felt that a wonderful interest had come into her life. 
A new thing was to be created, each day, under her 
roof, near her. She was to have part in it, help in 
its shaping to perfection. She gloated over the days 
to come, and a warm rush of gratitude to Jarvis for 
bringing her this sense of his need of her made her 
burst out: 

“Oh, life is such fun!” 

He looked at her closely. 

“You are a queer little mite,” said he. 

“The mite is mightier than the sword,” she 
laughed, starting for the garden. “You go to bed, 
so you can get an early start on that play. I’ll round 
up the Professor. He’s forgotten to bring himself in.” 

He obeyed without objection. He felt, all at once, 
like a ship at anchor after long years of floating 
aimlessly, but, manlike, he took his good fortune as 
his just right, and it never occurred to him to thank 
Bambi for his new sense of peace and well-being. 


IV 


HE marriage of Jarvis and Bambi furnished 



the town with a ten days’ topic of conversa- 
tion, a fact to which they were perfectly in- 


different. Then it was accepted, as any other wonder, 
such as a comet passing, or an airship disaster. 

In the meantime the strangely assorted trio fell 
into a more or less comfortable relationship. Jar- 
vis and the Professor almost came to blows, but for 
the most part the diplomatic Bambi kept peace. 
Both men appealed to her for everything and she 
took care of them like babies. She called them 
the “Heavenly Twins” and found endless amuse- 
ment in their dependence on her. Sometimes she 
did not see Jarvis for days. His study and bedroom 
were on the top floor, and when he was in a work fit 
he forgot to come to meals. She let him alone, only 
seeing that he ate what she sent up to him. Some- 
times his light burned all night. She would go to 
the foot of the stairs and listen to him reading scenes 
aloud in the early dawn, but she never interfered 


51 


52 


BAMEI 


with him in any way. He plunged into the remaking 
of “Success’’ with characteristic abandon. He de- 
stroyed the old version entirely, and began on a new 
one. When he had the framework completed, he 
summoned Bambi for a private view. She con- 
demned certain parts, praised others, flashed new 
thoughts upon him, forced him to new viewpoints. He 
raved at her, defended his ideas, refuted her argu- 
ments, and invariably accepted every contribution. 
When he came to an impasse, he howled through the 
house for her, like a lost child wailing for its mother. 

These daily councils of war, his incessant need of 
her, interfered with her plan of a career as a dan- 
seuse. She found that her days were resolving 
themselves into two portions — times when Jarvis 
needed her, and times when he did not. The hours 
they devoted together to his work constituted the 
core of her day, her happy time. She considered 
Jarvis as impersonally as she did the typewriter. It 
was the sense of being needed, of helping in his work, 
that filled her with such new zest. But the hours 
hung heavy between the third-floor summons, and 
one day, as she lay in the hammock, a book in her 
hand, it came to her that she might try it herself. 
She might put down her thoughts, her dreams, her 


BAMBI 


53 


ambitions, and make a story of them. Thought and 
action were one with Bambi. In five minutes* time 
she had pencil and paper, and had set forth on her 
new adventure. 

For the next few days she was so absorbed in her 
experiment that she almost neglected the “Heavenly 
Twins.” The Professor commented on her abstrac- 
tion, and Ardelia complained that “everybody in 
dis heah house is crazy, all of them studyin’ and 
writin’; yo’ cain’t even sing a hallelujah but some- 
body is a shoutin’, ‘ Sh ! ’ ” 

Only Jarvis failed to note any change. It was too 
much to expect that the great Jocelyn could con- 
centrate on any but his own mental attitudes. 

Like most facile people, Bambi was bored with her 
masterpiece at the end of a week, and abandoned it 
without a sigh. She decided that literature was not 
to be enriched by her. In fact, she never gave a 
thought to her first-born child until a month after 
its birth, when a New York magazine fell into her 
hands offering a prize of $500 for a short story. She 
took out her manuscript and read it over with a sense 
of surprise. She marched off to a stenographer, had 
it typed, and sent it to the contest, using a pen name 
as a signature, and then she promptly forgot about it. 


54 


BAMEI 


Six weeks more of hard labour brought “Success” 
almost to completion. Bambi was absorbed in the 
play. It was undoubtedly much better; her hopes 
were high that it would get a production. If only 
Jarvis could get to New York with it and show it 
to the managers; but that meant money, and they 
had none. Her busy brain spent hours scheming, 
but no light came. 

Then out of the blue fell a shining bolt! A long 
envelope, with a magazine imprint on it, came with 
her morning’s mail and nearly ended a young and 
useful life. The editor begged to inform her that the 
committee of judges had awarded her the short-story 
prize, that her tale would be published in the forth- 
coming issue, and she would please find check enclosed. 
Had she any other manuscript that they might see.^ 
Would she honour them with a visit the next time 
she came to New York? They would like to talk 
over a series of stories similar to the prize winner. 

The Professor and Jarvis had both departed to 
their lairs, or they would have witnessed the best 
pas seul of Bambi’s life. She fluttered the joy- 
bringing letter above her head, and circled the break- 
fast room in a whirl of happiness. Ardelia entered 
as she reached her climax. 



BAMBI FLUTTERED THE JOY-BKl.>GING LETTER ABOVE 
HER HEAD AND CIRCLED THE BREAKFAST-ROOM 
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BAMBI 


55 


“Mah good Lud, Miss Bambi, yo’ sho’ can dance 
better’n Jezebel ! I ’low the debil do git into yo’, the 
way yo’ all dance! Go ’way fnim me! Don’ yo’ 
drag me into no cunjer dance.” 

“Ardelia, the gods do provide!” cried Bambi. 
“ Such unutterably crazy good luck — to think of my 
getting it!” 

“Did yo’ get a lottery prize, Miss Bambi?” 

“That’s just what I got — a lottery prize.” 

“ Foh the Lud’s sake ! What you gwine to do with 
it?” 

“I am going to take Jarvis Jocelyn to New York, 
and between us we are going to harness Fame and 
drive her home.” 

“Well, I don’ know who Fame is, but if she’s a 
hoss, wher’ yo’ goin’ to keep her when yo’ get her? 
We ain’t got no barn for her.” 

Bambi laughed. 

“We’ll stable her all right, Ardelia, if we can catch 
her. This is a secret between you and me. Don’t 
you breathe it to a soul that I have won anything.” 

“No, ma’am; yo’ kin trust me to the death.” 

“I’ll bring you a present from New York if you 
won’t tell.” 

She rushed off to her own room, to look over her 


56 


BAMBI 


clothes and plan. Having married Jarvis out of 
hand, she would now take him on a moneymoon; 
they would seek their fortune instead of love. He 
would peddle his play; she would honour the pub- 
lisher with a visit. She hugged herself with joy over 
the prospect. She worked out various schemes by 
which she could break it to Jarvis and the Professor 
that she had money enough for a trip to New York, 
without saying how she got it. Fortunately, they 
were not of an inquiring mind, so she hoped that she 
could convince them without much difficulty. She 
tried out a scene or two just to prove how she would 
do it. At luncheon she paved the way. 

“How much more work is there on the play, 
Jarvis 

“I ought to finish it this week,” he answered. 
^‘It is good, too. It is a first-rate play.” 

“You ought to go to New York with it, and see 
the managers,” she said. 

“Ugh!” 

“Well, it’s got to be done. You can’t teach 
school unless you have pupils.” 

“I am not a pedant,” he protested. 

“You’re a reformer, and you’ve got to get some- 
thing to reform.” 


BAMEI 

“The work itself satisfies me.” 


57 


“It doesn’t satisfy me. You have got to produce 
and learn before you will grow.” 

“You’re a wise body for such a small package.” 

“That’s the way wisdom comes.” 

“Perhaps, O sibyl, you will read the future and 
tell me how I am to finance a trip to New York.” 

“Oh, the money will be provided,” airily. 

“Yes, I suppose it will. It always is when actual 
need demands it, but how?” 

“Never mind how. Just rest in the assurance 
that it will.” 

He looked at her, smiling. 

“Do you know I sometimes suspect that Fate had 
a hand in bringing us together? We are so alike.” 

“We are so alike we’re different,” she amended, 
laughing. 

She waited until next day to explode her bomb. 

“I think if you finish up the play this week, Jar- 
vis, we can have it typed early next week, and get 
off to New York on Friday or Saturday.” 

He stared at her. 

“On foot?” he inquired. 

“Oh, no. I find I have the money.” 

“You find you have it! You had that much and 


58 BAMEI 

didn’t know it? ” he exploded so loudly that the Pro- 
fessor came to, and paid attention. 

“I am careless about these things,” Bambi mur- 
mured. 

“What’s all this?” queried the Professor. 

“What I can’t see is that if you had money enough 
to pay up my board bill, why you married me,” con- 
tinued Jarvis. 

“Just one of my whims. I am so whimsical,” re- 
torted Bambi. 

“Would you mind telling me?” begged the Pro- 
fessor. 

“She’s got money enough to take us to New York,” 
repeated Jarvis. 

“Thank you. I don’t wish to go to that terrible 
place. Of all the distressing, improbable places. New 
York is the worst,” replied Professor Parkhurst. 

“Be calm. Professor. I was not planning to take 
you,” soothed his daughter. 

“But what is to be done with me?” he inquired, 
anxiously. 

“You are to be left the one sole duty of Ardelia, 
to be overfed and pampered until you aren’t fit to 
live with.” 

“But you can’t go off alone with Jarvis.” 


BAMBI 


59 


“Why not? I am married to him.” 

“Yes, I suppose you are, but you seem so un- 
married,” he objected. 

“We will have to practise up a few married poses, 
Jarvis. You must not act so interested in me. 
Father says we don’t act married.” 

“I am not in the least interested in you,” Jarvis 
defended himself, valiantly. 

“There, father, could anything be more husband- 
like?” 

“Where did you get the money, Jarvis?” the Pro- 
fessor asked. 

“I didn’t get it. She got it.” 

“Why, my dear,” protested her father, “where did 
you get any money?” 

“I have turned lady burglar.” 

“What?” 

“ Cheer up. It’s butter-’n’-eggs money.” 

“Butter-’n’-eggs money?” repeated Jarvis. 

“Certainly. The downtrodden farmer’s wife al- 
ways gives up her butter-’n’-eggs money to save the 
family fortunes, or build a new barn.” 

“What are you talking about?” interrupted the 
Professor. 

“I don’t know why the fact that I have a little 


60 


BAMBI 


money saved up should start a riot in this family. 
I have to go to New York on business, and as Jarvis 
has to go to see managers about ‘Success,’ I merely 
proposed that we go together.” 

“ What business have you in New York, my dear? ” 

“My own. Professor darling.” 

“Excuse me,” he hastened to add. 

“Certainly,” she replied, blithely. 

“I hate New York,” said Jarvis. “How long do 
you suppose we will have to stay?” 

“I adore New York, and we will stay as long as 
the money holds out.” 

“Would you mind stating, in round figures, how 
much you have?” the Professor remarked. 

“I would. I detest figures, round or oblong. I 
have enough.” 

“I hope you won’t get there, and then call on me 
for a supply, as you usually do, my dear. I am a 
little short this spring.” 

“You two have no confidence in me. If you will 
just put your trust in Bambi, I’ll mend the fortunes 
of this family so you will never be able to find the 
patch.” 

The two men laughed in spite of themselves, and 
the matter was dropped, but Bambi herself took the 


BAMBI 


61 


manuscript of “Success” to the stenographer, with 
strict orders as to a time limit; she led Jarvis, pro- 
testing, to a tailor’s, to order a suit of clothes; she 
restocked him in collars, shirts, and ties. In fact, she 
handled the situation like a diplomat, buying the rail- 
road tickets with a thrill of anticipation. 

Jarvis made no protest at all, until the night be- 
fore they were to start. He came to her and offered 
her a little black notebook. 

“What is this?” 

“I want you to put down every cent we spend. 
This is a loan, you understand.” 

“It’s a gift from the gods. Go offer libations. I 
don’t want your old debit and credit book.” 

He laid his hand on her shoulder, and looked into 
her shining eyes. 

“Good little fairy,” he said, “I want to put some 
gold dust in the pot, too.” 

“Wait until we get to the end of the rainbow.” 

“Just keep a record for me. My mind is such a 
sieve,” he said, offering the spurned black book. 

“All right. Give me the Black Maria. I will 
ride your figures in it.” 

“That was a pun. You ought to be spanked.” 

“Oh, Jarvis, isn’t it fun?” she cried to him. 


62 


BAMBI 


“Is it? I feel that turning salesman and ap- 
proaching a manager is like marching to the block.” 

“Poor old dreamer! Suppose you stay home, and 
let me peddle the play.” 

“Not much. I will shoulder my own pack.” 

“I feel like a Crusader myself. I’d rather be me 
than anybody on earth.” 

“The most extraordinary thing about you is your 
rapture,” he commented, seriously. 

She ran away, singing “Then Longen folke to go 
on Pilgrimauges.” 

The next day they set forth on their journey. 
Bambi left lists all over the house as reminders for 
the Professor. Ardelia had orders enough to man- 
oeuvre an army. The Professor went to the station 
with them, and absent-mindedly kissed Jarvis good- 
bye, which infuriated his victim and nearly sent 
Bambi into hysterics. As the train pulled out, she 
leaned from the window and called, “Go home, now. 
Professor!” and with a mechanical jerk he turned and 
started off in the direction indicated. 

“I never leave him with any comfort,” she ad- 
mitted to Jarvis. “He is so apt to mislay himself.” 

“He always makes me think of a mechanical toy, 
ever since he told me that he always counted what- 


BAMEI 


63 


ever he did. I am sure that you wind him up, like 
a watch, every night.” 

“Poor old dear! Funny I should have chosen him 
for a father, isn’t it.^” 

“I think your choice of relations is distinctly 
queer.” 

“ My queer relations ! That’s a good title. Every- 
body would understand it at once.” 

“Thank heaven, I haven’t any, queer, or other- 
wise.” 

“Didn’t you ever have any.?^” 

“No.” 

“Just growed.f^” 

He nodded. 

“I remember a funny old man you lived with, 
when I first knew you. Wasn’t he a relative?” 

“No, he found me some place. What’s the dif- 
ference? Do you care?” 

“No, I’m glad. I am sure I couldn’t abide ‘in- 
laws.’ ” 

Over the luncheon table he suddenly looked at her, 
as if for the first time. He noticed that all the eyes 
in the crowded diner were upon her. 

“What’s the matter?” she asked, intercepting his 
glance. 


64 


BAMBI 


“Do people always stare at you?” he inquired. 

She swept the car with an indifferent glance. 

“I don’t know, I never noticed.” 

“It’s queer for us to be going off like this,” he said, 
in a startled tone. 

“It seems perfectly natural to me. Are you em- 
barrassed?” she asked, suddenly aware of a new 
quality in him. 

“No, certainly not,” he defended himself. 

It was five o’clock when they drew into Grand 
Central Station, a time when the whole duty of man 
seems to be to get out of New York and into the 
suburbs. An army of ants ran through the great 
blue-vaulted rotunda, streaming into the narrow 
tunnels, where the steel horses were puffing and 
steaming. The sense of rushing waters was upon 
Jarvis. He halted, stunned and helpless. 

“Isn’t it great? All the tribes of Shem, Ham, and 
Japhet,” cried Bambi, at his elbow. She piloted him 
through — big, powerful, bewildered Jarvis. Many 
a hurrying suburbanite slowed up enough to look 
after them, the tall, blond giant, and a little girl with 
shining eyes. 

“Where are we going?” Jarvis asked, with child- 
like confidence that she would know. 







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BAMBI 


65 


“Gramercy Park. We’ll put up at a club. We’ll 
act rich and take a taxi.” 

She ordered the driver to go down the avenue 
slowly, and as he jolted around the crowded corner 
of Forty-second Street, on to the smooth asphalt, 
Bambi leaned forward eagerly. 

“Good evening, home of the books,” she nodded to 
the Library. “ Good evening, Mrs. New York, and 
all you people there! We’re here, Jarvis and I.” 

She turned and caught his rare smile. 

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” he remarked. 

“Perfectly. I feel as if I were breathing elec- 
tricity. Don’t you like all these people?” 

“No, I feel that there are too many of them. 
There should be half as many, and better done. 
Until we learn not to breed like rabbits, we will 
never accomplish a creditable race.” 

“Such good-looking rabbits though, Jarvis.” 

“Yes. Sleek and empty-headed.” 

“All hopping uptown, to nibble something,” she 
chuckled. 

“Life is such foolishness,” he said, in disgust. 

“Oh, no. Life is such ecstasy,” she threw back 
at him, as the cab drew up to the clubhouse door. 


V 


B AMBI was out of bed and at her window the 
next morning early. Her room faced on 
Gramercy Park, and the early morning sun 
fell across the little square so sacred to the memory 
of past glories, and bathed the trees in their new 
green drapery with a soft, impressionistic colour. 
Her eyes swept around the square, hastening over 
the great white apartment buildings, our modern 
atrocities, to linger over the old houses, which her 
swift imagination peopled with the fashion and pomp 
of another day. 

“Spring in the city!” breathed Bambi. “Spring 
in New York!” 

She was tempted to run to Jarvis’s door and tap him 
awake, to drink it in too, but she remembered that 
Jarvis did not care for the flesh-pots, so she enjoyed 
her early hour alone. It was very quiet in the Park; 
only an occasional milk wagon rattled down the street. 
There is a sort of hush that comes at that hour, even 
in New York. The early traffic is out of the way, 
66 


BAINIBI 


67 


The day’s work is not yet begun. There conies a 
pause before the opening gun is fired in the warfare 
of the day. 

Many a gay-hearted girl has sat, as Bambi sat, 
looking off over the housetops in this “City *of 
Beautiful Nonsense,” dreaming her dreams of con- 
quest and success. Youth makes no compromise 
with life. It demands all, passionately; loses all, or 
wins, with anguish of spirit. So it was with Bambi, 
the high-handed, imperious little mite. She willed 
Fame and Fortune for Jarvis and herself in full 
measure. She wanted to count in this great msel- 
strom of a city. She wanted two pedestals — one for 
Jarvis and one for herself — to lift them above the 
crowd. If all the young things who think such 
thoughts as these, in hall bedrooms and attic cham- 
bers, could mount their visioned pedestals, the traffic 
police would be powerless, and all the road to Albany 
lined like a Hall of Fame. 

But, fortunately, our practical heroine took no 
account of failure. She planned a campaign for 
Jarvis. She would go first to Belasco with his play. 
Mr. Belasco would receive him at once, recognize 
a master mind, and accept the play after an imme- 
diate hearing. Of course Jarvis would insist on 


68 


BAMBi 


reading his play aloud, so that Mr. Belasco might 
get the points clearly. He would come away with a 
thousand dollars advance royalty in his pocket, and 
then would come the delicious excitement of re- 
hearsals, in which she would help. She saw Jarvis 
before the curtain making a first-night’s speech. A 
brilliant series of pictures followed, with the Jarvis 
Jocelyns as central figures, surrounded by the wealth 
and brains of New York, London, Paris! 

While Jarvis was mounting like a meteor, she was 
making a reputation as a writer. When her place 
in the literary ranks was so assured that the 
Saturday Evening Post accepted her stories without 
so much as reading them; when everybody was ask- 
ing “Who is this brilliant writer? — this combination 
of O. Henry, Edith Wharton, and W. D. Howells?” 
then, and only then, would she come out from 
behind her nom-de-plume and assume her position 
as Mrs. Jarvis Jocelyn, wife of the famous play^ 
wright. 

So absorbed was she in her moving pictures that 
Jarvis’s rap sounded to her like a cannon shot. 

“Yes? Who is it? ” she called. 

“Jarvis,” he answered. “Are you ready for break- 
fast?” 


BAMBI 69 

“Just a minute,” she prevaricated. “Wait for 
me in the library.” 

She plunged into her tub and donned her clothes 
in record time. Fortunately, Jarvis did not fret 
over her tardiness. He was lost in an article on the 
drama in a current magazine. 

“Good morrow, my liege lord,” quoth Bambi, 
radiant, fresh, bewitching. 

“This man has no standards at all,” he replied, 
out of the magazine. 

She quietly closed it and took it from him. 

“I prefer to test the breakfast standards of this 
club,” she laughed. “Did you sleep .^” she added. 

“I always sleep.” 

“Let’s play to-day,” she added, over the coffee 
cups. 

“Play?” 

“Yes. We’ve never been anywhere together be- 
fore. I’ve put aside an appropriation for amuse- 
ment. I say we draw on that to-day.” 

“All right. Where shall we go? ” 

“Let’s go on top of the stage to Claremont for 
lunch, and then we might see some pictures this 
afternoon, dine here, and the theatre to-night.” 

“Had it all thought out, did you?” 


70 


BAMBI 


“What would you plan?” she inquired. 

“We will do my way to-morrow, and your way 
to-day,” he said. 

“All right. I promise to enjoy your way if you 
will promise to enjoy mine, not just endure it scorn- 
fully.” 

“You must think I’m a boor.” 

“No. But I think that until you learn that an 
artist cannot afford to scorn any phase of life that is 
human, you will never do great work.” 

He looked at her keenly. 

“Fifth Avenue isn’t human. It’s an imitation,” 
he objected. 

“You’re very young, Jarvis,” she commented. 

“Upon my soul,” he laughed, so spontaneously 
that an old fogy at the next table said audibly to 
his waitress, “Bride and groom,” and for some reason 
Bambi resented it with a flare of colour. 

“It’s true,” she continued; “until you realize 
that Fifth Avenue and the Bowery are as inevitable 
as the two ends of the teeter-totter, you won’t see 
the picture true.” 

“Sometimes you show a most surprising poise,” 
he granted her. “But of course you are not the stuff 
of which creative artists are made.” 


BAMBI 


71 


She chuckled, and patted her bag where the bill 
fold lay, with its crisp hundreds due to some imita- 
tion of creative impulse. 

“Just where, and in what, am I lacking?” she 
asked, most humbly. 

“A creative artist would not care a fig for truth. 
He creates an impression of truth out of a lie if 
necessary.” 

“But I am in the direct line from Ananias,” she 
protested. “ I inherit creative talent of that brand.” 

So they laughed and chattered, in the first real 
companionship they had ever known. 

True to the plan, they ascended the stage at Eigh- 
teenth Street, Bambi in a flutter of happiness. As 
the panorama of that most fascinating highway un- 
rolled before them, she constantly touched this and 
that and the other object with the wand of her vivid 
imagination. Jarvis watched her with amused as- 
tonishment, for the first time really thoroughly 
aware of her. Again he noticed that wherever she 
was she was a lodestone for all eyes. He decided 
that it was not beauty, in the strictest sense of the 
word, but a sort of radiance which emanated from 
her like an aura. 

Twenty-third Street cut across their path with 


72 


BAMBI 


its teeming throngs. Madison Square lay smiling 
in the sunshine like a happy courtesan, with no hint 
of its real use as Wayside Inn for all the old, the poor, 
the derelict, whose tired feet could find refuge there. 
The vista of the avenue lay ahead. 

“It’s like a necklace of sparkling pearls,” Bambi 
said, with incessant craning of her neck. “I feel 
like standing up and singing ‘The Song of the Ba- 
zaars.’ There isn’t a stuff, nor a silk, nor a gem 
from Araby to Samarkand that isn’t here.” 

“It bewitches you, doesn’t it?” Jarvis commented. 

“Think of the wonder of it! Camel trains, and 
caravans, merchant ships on all the seas, trains, and 
electric trucks, all bringing the booty of the world 
to this great, shining bazaar for you and me. It’s 
thrilling.” 

“So it is,” he agreed. “I hope you mark the pro- 
portion of shops for men — dresses, hats, jewels, furs, 
motor clothes, tea rooms, candy shops, corsetieres, 
fiorists, bootmakers, all for women. Motor cars are 
full of women. Are there no men in this menagerie? ” 

“No. They are all cliff-dwellers downtown. 
They probably wear loin cloths of a fashionable 
cut,” she laughed back at him. 

“They all look just alike — so many manikins 


BAMBI 73 

on parade. I suppose there are distinctions in class. 
There must be some shopgirls in this crowd. Can 
you distinguish them?” he asked. 

“Oh, yes. Not by cut, for the general line is the 
same for ‘Judy O’Grady and the Captain’s Lady,’ 
but there is a subtle difference to the feminine 
eye.” 

“But you don’t look like all the rest of them.” 

“No, alas, I look distinctly suburban. All I need 
is a package to make the disguise complete. Oh, 
Jarvis, do let’s hurry and make much red gold, so I 
can look like these finished things that trip up Fifth 
Avenue.” 

“You want to be like them — like those dolls?” 
he scorned, with a magnificent gesture. 

“Yes. I’d like to be so putrid with wealth that 
I could have rows of wardrobe trunks, with full sets 
of clothes for every me.” 

“How many of you are there?” 

“Oh, lots. I’ve never counted myself. Some 
days I’d dress up like a Broadway siren, some days 
I’d be a Fifth Avenue lady, or a suburbanite, or a 
reformer, or a ballet dancer, or a visitor from Boston.” 

“What would I be doing while you were all 
these?” 


74 


BAMBI 


“Oh, you’d be married to all of us. We’d keep 
you busy.” 

“The idea is appalling. A harem of misfits.” 

“We’d be good for your character.” 

“And death to my work.” 

“You’d know more about life when you had taken 
a course of us.” 

“Too much knowledge is a dangerous thing,” 
he remarked. “Shall we get off and go into the 
Library?” 

“Not to-day. That’s part of your day. I want 
just people and things in mine.” 

“What are you to-day?” he inquired. 

“An houri, a soulless houri,” she retorted. 

As they approached the University Club, Jarvis 
recognized it with scorn. 

“Monument to the stupidity of modern education, 
probably full this minute of provincials from Harvard 
and Yale, all smugly resting in the assurance that 
they are men of culture.” 

“I adore the way you demolish worlds,” Bambi 
sparkled up at him. 

“Another monument,” he remarked, indicating a 
new church lifting its spires among the money- 
changers’ booths. 


BAMBI 75 

^*nic jacet education and religion. Look at that 
slim white lady called the Plaza.” 

“You ought to name her ‘Miss New York.’” 

“Good, Jarvis. In time you will learn to play 
with me.” 

He frowned slightly. 

“I know,” she added, “I am scheduled under 
Interruptions in that famous notebook. Unless 
you play with me occasionally I shall become actively 
interruptive.” 

“You are as clever as a squirrel,” he said. “Al- 
ways hiding things and finding them.” 

“Hie jacet Bambi, along with the other self- 
important, modern institutions,” she sighed humbly. 

They rattled across the Circle and up Broadway. 
Bambi was silent, bored with its stupidity. It was 
not until they turned on to Riverside Drive that 
her enthusiasm bubbled up again. 

“Don’t you love rivers.^” she exclaimed, as the 
Hudson sparkled at them in the sun. 

“I’ve never known any,” he replied. 

“Oh, Mr. Hudson, Mr. Jocelyn,” she said, in- 
stantly. “I thought, of course, you had met.” 

“You absurdity!” laughed Jarvis. “What is it 
that you love about rivers.^” 


76 


BAMBI 


“Oh, their subtlety, I suppose. They look and 
act so aimless, and they are going somewhere all the 
time. They are lazy and useful and — wet. I like 
them.” 

“Is there anything in the universe you don’t 
like.^” Jarvis inquired. 

“Yes, but I can’t think what it is just now,” she 
answered, and sang “Ships of mine are floating — 
will they all come home?” so zestfully that an old 
gentleman in the front seat turned, with a smiling 
“ I hope so, my dear ! ” 

She nodded back at him gayly, to Jarvis’s an- 
noyance. As they approached Grant’s Tomb, she 
glanced at him suspiciously. When they got safely 
by, she sighed with content. 

“If you had said anything bromidic about Grant’s 
Tomb, Jarvis Jocelyn, I should have thrown myself 
off the top of the stage to certain death.” 

“At times you underestimate me,” he replied. 

At Claremont, Bambi ordered a most enticing 
repast, and they were very gay. Everybody seemed 
gay, too. The sun shone, the early spring air was 
soft, and a certain gala “stolen sweets” air of Clare- 
mont made it seem their most intimate meal. 

Everybody smiled at Bambi and she smiled back. 


BAMEI 77 

“Nice sort of hookey place, isn’t it?” she com- 
mented. 

“Do you know the man at the next table?” 

“Which one?” 

“The fat one, who is staring so.” 

“Oh, no. I thought you meant the one who lifts 
his glass to me every time he drinks.” 

Jarvis pushed back his chair furiously. 

“I will smash his head,” he said, rising. 

“Jarvis! Sit down! You silly thing! He’s only 
in fun. It’s the spirit of the place.” 

“I won’t have you toasted by strange men,” he 
thundered. 

“All right. I’ll make a face at him next time,” 
she said, soothingly; but somewhere, down in the 
depths of her being, where her cave ancestor lurked, 
she was pleased. As they finished their coffee, Bambi 
picked up the check, which the waiter laid beside 
Jarvis’s plate. 

“Do you mind my paying it? Would you rather 
do it?” 

“Certainly not. It’s your money. Why should 
I pretend about it?” 

She could have hugged him for it. Instead, she 
overfeed the waiter. 


78 


BAMBI 


“It’s too heavenly, out of doors, for pictures, after 
all,” she said, as they came out on to the drive. 
“What shall we do?” 

“Let’s get that double-decker again, and ride 
until we come to the end of the world.” 

“Righto. Here it comes, now.” 

Downtown they went, to Washington Square, 
where they dismounted, to wander off at random. All 
at once they were in another world. It was like an 
Alice in Wonderland adventure. They stepped out 
of the quiet of the green, shady quadrangle into a 
narrow street, swarming with life. 

Innumerable children, everywhere, shrieking and 
running at games. Fat mothers and babies along the 
curb, bargaining with pushcart men. A wheezing 
hurdy-gurdy, with every other note gone to the limbo 
of lost chords, rasped and leaked jerky tunes. All 
the shops had foreign names on the windows — not 
even an “ English spoken here ” sign. The fresh wind 
blew down the dirty street, and peppered everything 
with dust. Newspapers increased their circulation in 
a most irritating manner under foot. The place was 
hideous, lifting its raucous cry to the fair spring sky. 

Jarvis looked at Bambi, silenced, for once. Her 
face registered a loud protest. 


BAMBI 


79 


“Well?” he challenged her. 

“Oh, I hate ugliness so. It’s like pain. Is it 
very weak of me to hate ugliness?” she begged. 

“It’s very natural, and no doubt weak.”^ 

“I wouldn’t mind the thought of poverty so much 
— not hunger, nor thirst, nor cold — but dirt and 
hideousness — they are too terrible.” 

“This is life in the raw. You like it dressed for 
Fifth Avenue better,” he taunted. 

“Do you prefer this?” 

“Infinitely.” 

She looked about again, with a sense of having 
missed his point. 

“Because it’s fight, hand-to-throat fight?” 

“Yes. You can teach these people. They don’t 
know anything. They are dumb beasts. You can 
give them tongue. It’s too late to teach your Upper 
End.” 

A woman passed close, with a baby, covered with 
great sores. Bambi caught at Jarvis’s sleeve and tot- 
tered a step. 

“I feel a little sick,” she faltered. 

He caught her hand through his arm, and hurried 
her quickly back the way they had come. As they 
mounted the stage, he looked at her white face. 


80 


BAMBI 


“ We will have to expurgate life for you, Miss Mite/^ 

“No, no. I want it all. I must get hardened.’’ 

Back at the club, she hurried into her hot bath, 
with a vague hope of washing off all traces of that 
awful street. But their talk at dinner was desultory 
and rather serious. Jarvis talked for the most part, 
elaborating schemes of social reform and the handling 
of our immigrant brothers. 

They started off to the theatre, with no definite 
plan. Bambi’s spirits rose to the lights of Broadway, 
like a trout to a silver shiner. There is a hectic joy- 
Aousness on Broadway, a personification of the “Eat, 
drink and be merry, for to-morrow we die” spirit 
which warms you, like champagne, or chills you, like 
the icy hand of despair, according to your mood. 
Bambi skipped along beside Jarvis, twittering gayly. 

“People are happy, aren’t they?” 

“Surface veneer.” 

“Jarvis, you old bogie-man, hiding in the dark, 
to jump out and say ‘Boo!’” 

“That’s my work — booing frauds. Let’s go in 
here,” he added. 

“‘Damaged Goods,”’ Bambi read on the theatre 
poster. “Do you know anything about it?” 

“I’ve read it. It is not amusing,” he added. 


BAMBI 


81 


She followed him without replying. The theatre 
was packed with a motley audience of unrelated 
people. Professors and their wives, reformers, 
writers, mothers with adolescent sons, mothers with 
young daughters — what, in Broadway parlance, is 
called a “high-brow” audience — a striking group 
of people gathered together to mark a daring exper- 
iment of our audacious times; a surgical clinic on a 
social sore, up to this moment hidden, neglected, 
whispered about. 

Bambi came to it with an open mind. She had 
heard of Brieux, his dramatic tracts, but she had not 
seen the text of this play, nor was she prepared for 
it. The first act horrified her into silence during the 
whole intermission. The second act racked her with 
sobs, and the last act piled up the agony to the 
breaking point. They made their way out to the 
street, part of that quiet audience which scarcely 
spoke, so deep was the impression of the play. 

Broadway glared and grinned and gambolled, goat- 
like. Bambi clung to Jarvis tightly. He looked 
down at her swollen face, red eyes, and bewildered 
mouth without a word. He put her into a taxicab 
and got in after her. In silence she looked out at 
the glittering white way. 


82 


BAMBI 


“The veneer is all rubbed off. I can see only 
bones,” she said, and caught her breath in a sob. 

Jarvis awkwardly took her hand and patted it. 

“I am sorry we went to that play to-night. You 
must not feel things so,” he added. 

“Didn’t you feel it.^” 

“I felt it, didactically, but not dramatically. 
It’s a big sermon and a poor play.” 

“I feel as if I had had an appendicitis operation, 
and I am glad it is over.” 

“I must meet young Richard Bennett. He has 
contributed to the big issues of the day. He’s a 
fine actor. He must be an intelligent man.” 

For the rest of the way they drove in silence. 

“ Tired Jarvis asked as they neared the club. 

She looked so little and crumpled, with all the 
shine drowned in her eyes. 

“Life has beaten me raw to-day,” she answered 
him, with a shadowy smile. 


VI 


B AMBI announced the next morning that she 
had to have an entire day in which to get 
over “Damaged Goods.” Jarvis was noth- 
ing loath to put off the evil hour when he was to 
start on his manager-hunt. So they agreed on one 
more day ef freedom. 

The clouds threatened, so they looked over the 
papers for an announcement of picture exhibitions, 
concerts, and lectures. The choice was bewildering. 
They finally decided on a morning lecture, at Berke- 
ley Lyceum, entitled “The Religion of the Demo- 
crat.” They made their way to the little theatre, 
in a leisurely manner, to find the street blocked with 
motor cars, the sidewalk and foyer crowded with 
fashionable women, fully half an hour before the lec- 
ture was announced. Distracted ushers tried to find 
places for the endless stream of ardent culturites, until 
even the stage was invaded and packed in solid rows. 

“This is astonishing,” said Jarvis. “What on 
earth do these fine birds care for democracy? ” 


83 


84 


BAMEI 


“Must be the lecturer,” said wise Bambi. 

“Humph! A little mental pap before they run 
on to lunch. ” 

The cackle and babble ceased suddenly as the 
chairman and lecturer appeared. After a few an- 
nouncements, the leading man was introduced. 
Bambi was right. It was the man. You felt per- 
sonality in the slow way he swept the audience with 
his eyes, in the charming, friendly smile, in the 
humour of his face. The women fairly purred. 

Jarvis grunted impatiently, and Bambi felt a sense 
of guilt for her ready response to this man, who had 
not yet spoken. Then he began, in a good, resonant 
voice, to hook this lecture to the one of the week before. 

“Oh, it’s a course,” Bambi whispered. 

Jarvis nodded. He wished he was well out of it. 
He hated the woman-idol kind of lecturer. Then a 
stray phrase caught his wandering attention, and he 
began to listen. The man had the “gift of tongues.” 
That was evident. This was his last conscious com- 
ment. It seemed but a few minutes later that he 
turned to Bambi, as the lecturer sat down. She 
sat forward in her chair, with that absorbed respon- 
siveness he had marked in her before. He touched 
her before she realized that it was time to go. 


BAMBI 


85 


“That was big, wasn’t it?” she said. 

“It was. He is somebody. He gave them real 
meat instead of pap.” 

“And they liked it,” Bambi said, reaching for her 
furs, her bag, and her umbrella, strewn under the 
seat in her trance. 

“That fellow is all right. He makes you feel that 
there are fine, big things to be done in the world, 
and that you must be about it — not to-morrow, 
but to-day,” Jarvis said, as they pushed their way 
out. 

“I wonder what these women are doing about it?” 
Bambi speculated. 

“Talking.” 

“Boo!” she scoffed at him. 

They strolled, with the strollers, on the avenue. 
They ate what Jarvis dubbed “a soupcon” of lunch 
in a tea-shop, and to elude a dribble of rain they 
betook themselves to the Armory, down on Seven- 
teenth Street, to the much-talked-of International 
Modern Art Exhibition. 

Adam and Eve, the first day in the Garden, could 
not have been any more dazed than these two young 
things who had strayed in out of the rain. No sated 
sensibilities here, prodded by the constant shocks 


86 


BAMBI 


of metropolitan “latest thing,” but fresh, enthusi- 
astic interest was their priceless possession. They 
wandered aimlessly through several rooms, until 
they emerged into the Cubist and Futurist sections 
and stood rooted to the floor with surprise and horror. 

“What are these.^” Bambi demanded. 

“Damaged Goods,” Jarvis laughed, with a rare 
attempt at a joke. 

“Are they serious?” 

“Tragic, I should say.” 

He looked about with an expression of amusement, 
but Bambi felt actual, physical nausea at the sight 
of the vivid blue and orange and purple. 

“It’s wicked!” she said, between closed teeth. 

“Let’s sit down and try to get the idea,” said 
Jarvis. 

“There isn’t any idea.” 

“Oh, yes, there must be. The directors would 
never get together an acre of these atrocities Unless 
there was some excuse.” 

“It’s low and degenerate. It’s a school of hide- 
ousness. Come away!” 

“You go sit in another room if you like. I am 
going to give these fellows a fair chance. Maybe 
they’ve got hold of something new.” 


BAMBI 87 

“There is nothing new about that awful woman 
with a decayed face. She has been dead for weeks.” 

“Just put your emotions away, Bambi, and train 
your mind on this thing. Here is a whole school 
of men, working in a new medium, along new ideas. 
They can’t all be crazy, you know.” 

“You like it?” 

“Of course I don’t like it, but it interests me. I 
haven’t read or heard anything about it, so it is a 
shock.” 

“You shall not make for yourselves false images,” 
she said, shaking her head. 

“Maybe these maniacs are trying to break up the 
conventions of Painting and Sculpture. They want 
more freedom.” 

“They are anarchists, vandals!” 

“Possibly, but if they are necessary to the devel- 
opment of a bigger art expression ” 

“They ought to work in secret, and exhibit in the 
dark.” 

“No, no! We have to be prepared for it. Our 
old standards have got to go.” 

“I feel as medieval as the Professor. I never 
really understood him before.” 

“We ought to bring him here.” 


88 BAMBI 

“I think it would kill him,” Bambi answered. 

They spent a couple of hours, and then went back 
to the club. For some reason the Cubists had stirred 
Jarvis deeply. He divined something new and sin- 
cere, where Bambi felt only pose and degeneracy. 

“When you think of that awful street, and ‘Dam- 
aged Goods,’ and that exhibit of horrors, all in two 
days, I don’t wonder I feel like an old, old woman,” 
she said. 

“Suppose we stay in to-night? There is some 
kind of special meeting announced here, to discuss 
the drama. We might go in for a little while.” 

“All right. But ‘early to bed,’ for to-morrow 
we set out on our careers.” 

“You haven’t told me what yours is, yet,” he 
objected. 

“Mine is a secret.” 

The dining-room of the club was entirely full when 
they went down, and the hum of talk and laughter 
roused Bambi’s tired sensibilities. 

“It’s quite jolly,” she said. “Some of the people 
look interesting, don’t they?” 

“I talked to that little man, over there, with the red 
necktie, while I was waiting for you, and he has ideas.” 

“Lovely woman with him.” 


BAMBI 


89 


They chatted personalities for a while. 

“Seems ages since we left home, doesn’t it?” 

“ Yes . B ig mental experiences obliterate time . ’ ’ 

“The Professor has forgotten to write, of course.” 

“He has probably forgotten us.” 

“Oh, no!” 

“I feel that I am getting rather well acquainted 
with you,” he nodded and smiled. 

“How do you like me, now that you have met 
me?” she teased. 

“You are an interesting specimen oversensitized.” 

“Jarvis!” she protested. “I sound like a Cubist 
picture.” 

After dinner they drifted with the crowd into the 
art gallery, where they talked to several people who 
introduced themselves. It was very friendly and 
social. The lecturer they had heard in the morning 
was there. Jarvis went to speak to him, and brought 
him back to Bambi. She found him jolly and re- 
sponsive. She even dared to twit him about his 
feminine audience. 

People seated themselves in groups, and finally a 
chairman made some remarks about the Modern 
Drama and invited a discussion. A dramatic critic 
made cynical comment on the so-called “uplift 


90 


BAMBI 


plays,’’ which roused Jarvis to indignation. To 
Bambi’s surprise, he was on his feet instantly, and 
a torrent of words was spilled upon the dramatic 
critic. He held the attention closely, in an impas- 
sioned plea for thoughtful drama, not necessarily 
didactic, but the serious handling of vital problems 
in comedy, if necessary, or even in farce. It need 
not be such harrowing work as Brieux makes it, but 
if the man who had things to say could and would 
conquer the technique of dramatic writing, he would 
reach the biggest audiences that could be provided, 
which ought to pay him for the severity of his 
apprenticeship. 

Bambi thrilled with pride in him, his handsome 
face, his passionate idealism, and his eloquence. He 
sat down, amid much applause, and Bambi knew he 
had made his place among these clever people. He 
took some part in the discussion that followed, and 
when they went upstairs she marked the flush of 
excitement and the alive look of his face. 

“I was proud of you, Jarvis,” she said, as they 
stopped at her door. 

“Nonsense. The man I talked against was a 
duffer, but this has been a great day,” he said. 
“This place stimulates you every minute.” 


BAMBI 91 

“To-morrow we move on Broadway, Captain 
Jocelyn. Get your forces in order to advance.’' 

“Very good, General. Good night, sir.” 

“Good night.” 

As she closed her door she skipped across the room. 
She knew the first gun had been fired when Jarvis 
rose to speak. If she was to act as commander in 
the making of his career, she was glad she had a 
personality to work with. Nobody would forget 
that Greek head, with its close-cropped brown curls, 
those dreaming blue eyes, and that sensitive, over- 
controlled mouth. Her own dreams were wrought 
about them. 


VII 


HE day which Bambi foretold would some 



time be famous in history dawned propi- 
tiously, with sun and soft airs. A sense of 


excitement got them up early. Breakfast was over, 
and Jarvis ready for action, by eight-thirty. 

“I don’t believe Mr. Belasco will be down this 
early, Jarvis,” Bambi said. 

“Well, he is a busy man. He’ll probably get an 
early start. I want to be on the ground when he 
arrives, anyhow. If he should want me to read the 
play this morning, we should need time.” 

She made no more objections. She straightened 
his tie, and brushed his coat, with shining eyes, full 
of excitement. 

“Just think! In five hours we may know.” He 
took up his hat and his manuscript. 

“Yes,” he answered confidently. “Shall we 
lunch here?” 

“Yes, and do hurry back, Jarvis.” 

At the door he remembered her. 


92 


BAMBI 


93 


“Where are you going? Do you want to come?” 

“No. I have something to attend to myself. 
Good luck.” 

She held out her hand to him. He held it a sec- 
ond, looking at it as if it was a specimen of some- 
thing hitherto unknown. 

“I am not forgetting that you are giving me this 
chance,” he said, and left abruptly. 

Bambi leaped about the rooms in a series of joy- 
leaps that would have shamed Mordkin, before she 
began the serious business of the day. 

Jarvis had carefully looked up the exact location 
of the Belasco Theatre. He decided to walk uptown, 
in order to arrange his thoughts, and to make up his 
mind just how much and what he would say to Mr. 
Belasco. The stir, the people, the noise and the roar 
were unseen, unheard. He strolled along, towering 
above the crowd, a blond young Achilles, with many 
an admiring eye turned in his wake. 

None of the perquisites of success, so dear to 
Bambi’s dreams, appealed to him. He saw himself, 
like John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness, which 
was the world, and all the people, in all the cities, 
were roused out of their lethargy and dull submission 
at his call — not to prayer, but to thought. It was 


94 


BAMEI 


a great mission he was upon, and even Broadway 
became consecrated ground. He walked far beyond 
the cross street of the theatre in his absorption, so it 
was exactly half-after nine when he arrived at the 
box office. 

“I want to speak to Mr. Belasco,” he said to the 
man there. 

“Three flights up.’’ 

“Is there an elevator.^” 

“Naw.” 

He resented the man’s grin, but he made no 
reply. He began to climb the long flights of dark 
stairs. Arrived at the top, the doors were all 
locked, so he was forced to descend again to the 
box office. 

“There is nobody up there,” he said. 

“You didn’t expect anybody to be there at this 
hour of the dawn, did you? ” 

“What time does Mr. Belasco usually come?” 

“There is nothing usual about him. He is liable 
to land here any time between now and midnight, 
if he comes at all.” 

“He doesn’t come every day, then?” 

The man grinned. 

“Say, you’re new to this game, ain’t you? Some- 


BAMBI 


95 


times he don’t show up for days. The steno can tell 
you whether he is coming to-day.” 

“The steno?” 

“Yes. The skirt that’s in his office.” 

“When does she come?” 

“Oh, about ten or eleven.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

Jarvis made the ascent again. He stood about 
for nearly an hour before the office girl arrived. 
“Those stairs is the limit,” she gasped. “You wait- 
ing for me?” 

“I am waiting for Mr. Belasco.” 

‘ ‘ Oh ! Appointment ? ’ ’ 

“No.” 

“Got a letter to him?” 

“No.” 

“ What do you want to see him about? A job? ” 

“No. About a play.” 

She ushered him in, opened the windows, took off 
her hat, looked at herself in the mirror, while she 
patted her wonderful hair. She powdered her nose, 
fixed her neck ruffie, apparently oblivious of Jarvis. 

“What time do you expect Mr. Belasco?” 

“Goodness only knows.” 


96 


BAMBI 


“Do you think he will come to-day?’’ 

“Far be it from me to say.” 

“But I wish to see him.” 

“Many a blond has twirled his thumbs around 
here for weeks for the same reason,” 

“But I am only in New York for a little while.” 

“I should worry,” said she, opening her type- 
writer desk. “Give me your play. I’ll see that it 
gets to him.” 

“I’d rather talk to him myself.” 

“Suit yourself.” 

“I suppose I can wait here?” 

“No charge for chairs,” said the cheerful one. 

An hour passed, broken only by the click of the 
typewriter. Conventional overtures from the cheerful 
one being discouraged, she smashed the keys in sulky 
silence. From eleven to twelve things were consid- 
erably enlivened. Many sleek youths, of a type he 
had seen on Broadway, arrived. They saluted the 
cheerful one gayly as “Sally” and indulged in vary- 
ing degrees of witty persiflage before the inevitable 
“The Governor in?” 

“Nope.” 

“Expect him to-day?” 

“I dunno.” 


BAMBI 


97 


“Billy here?’’ 

“Dunno.” 

“Thank you, little one.” 

Sometimes they departed, sometimes they joined 
Jarvis’s waiting party. Lovely ladies, and some not 
so lovely. Old and young, fat and thin, they 
climbed the many stairs and met their disappoint- 
ment cheerfully. They usually fell upon Jack, or 
Billy, or Jim, of the waiters, who, in turn, fell upon 
Belle, or Susan, or Fay. 

“What are you with? How’s business?” were al- 
ways the first questions, followed by shop talk, un- 
intelligible to Jarvis. One youth said that he had 
been to this office ten successive mornings without 
getting an appointment. The others laughed, and 
one woman boasted that she had the record, for she 
had gone twenty-eight times before she saw Froh- 
man, the last engagement she sought. 

“But he engaged me the 29th,” she laughed. 

They impressed Jarvis as the lightest-hearted set 
he had ever encountered. They laughed over every- 
thing and nothing. By one o’clock Jarvis and the 
cheerful one were again in sole possession. 

“Don’t you ever eat?” she asked him. 

“Oh, is it lunch time?” he inquired. 


98 


BAMBI 


“ Come out of the trance.” 

She went through the entire performance before 
the mirror, in putting on her hat. 

“Shall I bring you anything, dearie.^” she asked 
him, as she completed her toilette. 

“I’m going, too,” he sai(J. “I’ll be back.” 

He plunged down the stairs. When he reached 
the street he thought of Bambi’s face when he re- 
turned with the announcement of his futile morning. 
He went into a shop, telephoned the club that he had 
been detained and would not be back to lunch. Then 
he foraged for food and went back to his sitting on 
the top floor of the Belasco. 

“Well, little stranger,” said the cheerful one, on 
her return. 

His interest in the afternoon callers waned. At five 
o’clock he gave it up. He arranged with his new 
friend to call her up in the morning to see if she had 
any news from the front. Then he slowly turned his 
footsteps toward the club . He was irritated at the long 
delay, and for the first time aware that there might 
be more difiiculty in seeing managers than he had 
anticipated. He had thought the condescension all 
on his part, but eight hours of airing his heels in the 
outer purlieus had altered his viewpoint a trifle. 


BAIVIBI 


99 


His main concern was Bambi’s disappointment. 
She had sent him out with such high hopes — she 
would receive him back with his Big Chief feathers 
drooping. He was sorrier than he would admit to 
drown the shine in her eyes. He walked downtown 
to postpone the evil hour, but in the end it had to 
be faced. 


VIII 


A FTER Jarvis had departed on his conquer- 
/% ing way Bambi turned her attention to her- 
*self. She made a most careful toilette. 
When she was hatted, and veiled, and gloved, she 
tripped up and down before her mirror, trying her- 
self out, as it were. She made several entrances 
into editorial sanctums. Once she entered haltingly, 
drawn to her full five-feet-one; once she bounced in, 
confidently, but she vetoed that, and decided upon 
a dignified but cordial entrance. One more trip to 
the mirror for a close inspection. 

“Oh, you pretty thing!” she nodded to herself. 

She set forth, as Jarvis had done, with the address 
on the publisher’s letter clasped in her hand. She 
marched uptown with a singing heart. She saw 
everything and everybody. She wondered how 
many of them carried happy secrets, like hers, in 
their thoughts — how many of them were going 
toward thrilling experiences. She shot her imagi- 
nation, like a boomerang, at every passing face, in 
100 


BAMBI 


101 


the hope of getting back secrets that lay behind the 
masks. She was unaware how her direct gaze 
riveted attention to her own eager face. She 
thought the people who smiled at her were friendly, 
and she tossed them back as good as they gave. 
Even when a waxed and fashionable old dandy re- 
marked, ‘‘ Good morning, my dear,’’ she only laughed. 
Naturally, he misunderstood, and fell in step beside 
her. 

“Are you alone?” he asked, coyly. 

She gave him a direct glance and answered seri- 
ously. 

“No. I am walking with my five little brothers 
and sisters.” He looked at her in such utter amaze- 
ment that she laughed again. This time he under- 
stood. 

“Good day,” said he, and right-about-faced. 

She knew she had plenty of time, so she sauntered 
into a bookshop and turned over the new books, 
thinking that maybe some day she would come into 
such a shop and ask for her own books, or Jarvis’s 
published plays. She chatted with a clerk for a few 
minutes, then went back to the avenue, like a needle 
to a magnet. 

In and out of shops she went. She looked at 


102 BAMBI 

hats and frocks, and touched with envious fingers 
soft stuffs and laces. 

“Some day,” she hummed, “some day!” 

She even turned in at Tiffany’s seductive door. 
Colour was a madness with her, and her little cries 
of delight over a sapphire encouraged a young clerk 
to take it out of the case and lay it on the velvet 
square. 

“Oh, it’s so beautiful it hurts!” Bambi exclaimed. 

He smiled at her sympathetically. 

“Magnificent, isn’t it? Are you interested in 
jewels?” he added. 

“I am interested, but I am not a buyer,” she ad- 
mitted to him. “I adore colour.” 

“Let me show you some things,” he said. 

“Oh, no. I mustn’t take up your time.” 

“That’s all right. I have nothing else to do just 
now.” 

So he laid before her enraptured gaze the wealth 
of the Indies — the treasure baubles of a hundred 
queens — blue and green, and red and yellow, they 
gleamed at her. In an instinctive gesture she put 
out her hand, then drew it back quickly. 

“Mustn’t touch?” she asked, so like a child that 
he laughed. 


BAMBI 


103 


“Take it up if you like.” 

She took the superb emerald. “Do you suppose 
it knows how beautiful it is? ” 

“It takes a fine colour on your hand. Some peo- 
ple kill stones, you know. You ought to wear them.” 

He told her some of the history of the jewels he 
showed her. He explained how stones were judged. 
He described the precautions necessary when famous 
jewels were to be taken from one place to another. 
Bambi sat hypnotized, and listened. She might 
have spent the entire day there if the man had not 
been called by an important customer. “I have 
been here hours, haven’t I? I feel as if I ought to 
buy something. Could you show me something 
about $1.55?” The man laughed so spontaneously 
and Bambi joined him so gayly, that they felt most 
friendly. 

“Come in next week. I’ll show you a most gor- 
geous string of pearls which is coming to be restrung,” 
he said. 

“Oh, thank you. I have had such a good time.” 

He took her to the door as if she were a Vander- 
bilt, and bowed her out. The carriage man bowed, 
too, and Bambi felt that she was getting on. 

This time she loitered no longer. She inspected 


104 BAMBI 

her address for the hundredth time, and went to the 
magazine office, where she was to find the golden 
egg. She was impressed by the elegance of the busy 
reception room, with its mahogany and good pic- 
tures. She sent her card to the editor and waited 
fifteen minutes, then the card bearer returned. She 
was sorry, but the editor was extremely occupied 
this morning. Was there anything she could do 
for Mrs. Jocelyn.^ Bambi’s face registered her dis- 
appointment. 

“Would it do any good for me to wait. 

“Have you a letter of introduction.^ Mr. Strong 
seemed not to know your name.” 

“He told me to come.” 

“Told you. ^ How do you mean?” 

Bambi offered the letter to her. As she read it 
her face changed. 

“Oh, are you the girl who won the prize? ” Bambi 
nodded. 

“You are?” she protested her amazement. 

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” Bambi assured 
her. 

“Of course Mr. Strong will see you. He didn’t 
understand.” She was off in great haste, and back 
in a jiffy. 


BAMBI 


105 


“Come right in,” she invited. 

Bambi wanted to run. Her breath came in little, 
short gasps. She wished she could take hold of the 
other girl’s hand and hold on tight. A door stood 
open into an outside oflSce, and several clerks stared 
at her. The sanctum door was open. 

“Mr. Strong, this is Mrs. Jocelyn,” said her guide, 
and the door closed behind her. A tali, pleasant 
faced young man rose and tried to cover his surprise. 

“How do you do?” he said cordially, with out- 
stretched hand. 

Bambi laid hers in it. 

“I’m frightened to death,” she answered.^ 

“Frightened — of me?” 

“Well, not you, exactly, but editorism.” He 
laughed. 

“I can match amazement with your terror, then. 
You are a surprise.” 

“You are disappointed in me,” she said quickly. 

“I expected a — a — well, a bigger woman, and 
older.” 

“ I see. You didn’t expect a half portion?” 

“Exactly,” he smiled. “Well, we were extremely 
interested in your story.” 

“I am so glad.” 


106 


BAMBI 


“ What else have you done? ” 

“Nothing.” 

“That your first story?” 

“Yes.” 

“How did you happen to write it, Mrs. Jocelyn?” 

“I am looking for a career,” she began, but his 
surprised glance stopped her. “You see I ought to 
dance. That’s what the Lord intended me to do. 
I can dance.” 

“I can imagine that.” 

“But dancing would take me away from home so 
much, and the ‘Heavenly Twins’ need me so.” 

“Twins? You haven’t twins!” 

“Yes. Oh, no, not real ones, but my father and 
Jarvis.” 

“Jarvis?” 

“Jarvis is a poet and a dreamer.” 

“Is Jarvis a friend?” 

“Oh, no, I am married to him. They are both 
so helpless. My father is a mathematician. I have 
to take care of them both, you see.” 

“You mean in a financial way?” 

“My father makes a fair income, and of course 
Jarvis may sell his plays, but when I married him I 
expected to support him.” 


BAMBI 


107 


“He is delkate, I suppose?” 

She laughed. 

“He’s six feet and over, wide and strong as a 
battleship.” 

“And he expects you to support him?” 

“No. He protests, but you see I took a sort of 
advantage of him when I married him. He didn’t 
want to marry me.” 

“You are a most extraordinary young woman,” 
remarked Mr. Strong. 

“Oh, no, I am usual enough. I help Jarvis with 
his plays, and what I say seems to have sense. Do 
you know?” 

“Ido.” 

“So just for fun I wrote the story, and just for 
fun I sent it to your contest.” 

“Well, just for fun we gave you the prize.” 

She laughed. 

“We want a whole series of tales about that girl. 
She’s new. ” 

“How many is a series?” 

“Oh, eight or ten, if you have material enough.” 

“Oh, yes, I live — I mean I get material all the 
time.” 


“What do you want for them?” 


108 


BAMBI 


“Oh, I’d like a lot for them. New York is full 
of things I want.” 

He laughed again. 

“We could give you $150 a story. That would 
be $1,500 for the ten. Then, eventually, we would 
make a book of them, and you would get 10 per 
cent, on that.” 

“A book.^^ A book, with illustrations, and covers, 
and silW 

He nodded. “Are those terms satisfactory?” 

“Oh, mercy, yes. It sounds like a fortune!” 

“When could you begin, Mrs. Jocelyn?” 

“Right away, to-day! ” 

“Well, that will hardly be necessary. If you send 
copy to us by the fifth, that will be soon enough.” 

“All right. Jarvis is selling a play to-day, so prob- 
ably we will be rich shortly.” 

“To whom is Mr. Jocelyn selling his play?” 

“Belasco.” 

“So! That’s fine! You’ll never have to support 
him, at that rate.” 

“He doesn’t know about my getting the prize 
and coming to see you, and all. I want to keep it 
a secret for a time.” 

“I understand.” 


BAMBI 109 

“It would be rather awful for me to be famous 
first.” 

“I don’t know about that. It would be selfish 
of your husband to stand in your way.” 

“Oh, Jarvis is selfish. He’s utterly, absorbedly 
selfish, but not just that way. He’d never stand in 
my way.” 

“I’d like to meet Jarvis.” 

“Well, when the secret is out I’ll bring him here. 
He’s unusual, Jarvis is. Some day he’ll be great.” 

“He is in luck to be Mr. to your Mrs.” 

She flushed furiously. 

“Yes, I think he is,” she admitted, as she rose. 

“How long are you to be in New York.f^ ” 

“As long as your five hundred holds out.” 

“You must come in again. If I can be of any use 
to you, while you are here, give you letters to any- 
body, have you meet people. I’ll be dehghted to do 
so.” 

“You’re a very nice man,” said she. “You have 
removed the ban from the whole tribe of editors in 
twenty minutes’ talk.” 

“That’s a tribute worth living for. It has been a 
delightful twenty minutes. Come in again.” 

Out in the office, and in the impressive reception 


110 BAMBI 

room, interested faces turned toward her. The 
girl who had acted sponsor for her nodded. She 
tasted the first fruits of success, and they were sweet. 
The only imperfection was the fact she could not 
tell Jarvis. She could not brag of her triumphs 
nor repeat the friendly chat with Mr. Strong. It 
would be such fun to see his surprise at the news — 
he had so lately patronized her. “You are not the 
stuff of which creative artists are made, of course.” 

Tra-la-la! She’d make him eat those words. 

Then she began at once to do the next story of the 
series, and by the time she reached the club she had 
it all thought out. It was then that Jarvis’s tele- 
phone message came to her, and she decided that 
he was even now reading his play aloud to Belasco; 
that he, too, had found a golden key. 

She worked on the new story all the afternoon, 
and waited for Jarvis’s triumphant return, in a 
seventh heaven of joyous anticipation. 


IX 


J ARVIS marshalled his reluctant feet into 
“Forward, March!” down the hall, and trod 
softly in the hope that he could get past 
Bambi’s door; but at his first step on the corridor 
it was fiung open, and the small figure silhouetted 
against the light of the room behind. 

“You read him the play ? ” 

He led her gently into the room, closed the door, 
and faced her. 

“Jarvis, he refused it.^^” she cried. 

“I have spent seven hours sitting in an anteroom 
with a blond steno, waiting. Nobody has been near, 
all day, excepting fat old girls and Billy boys, looking 
for jobs.” 

“Belasco didn’t come.^” 

“ He did not. What’s more, he sometimes does not 
come for days.” 

“Couldn’t they send him word you were there.^” 
Even Jarvis smiled at this. 

“ My dear, they treated me with the same consid- 
111 


112 


BAMBI 


eration afforded the janitor. It occurred to me, dur- 
ing those seven hours of enforced thought, that our 
ideas of the simplicity of selling a play were a trifle 
arrogant. It seems to have unforeseen complica- 
tions.” 

Bambi sat down on the bed, her brow knitted. 

‘‘Seven hours sitting.? That’s awful!” 

“The blond young woman suggested a letter of 
introduction or an appointment, but I don’t know 
any one to give me a letter. I doubt if he will give 
me the appointment without it.” 

“I can get it for you!” she said. 

“You can? Where? How?” 

“I know a way. Never you mind.” 

“I was afraid you would be so disappointed I was 
tempted not to come back at all,” he remarked. 

“ Disappointed? Not I ! Why, we can wait seven 
years, if need be. In the end we will win.” 

“You are a very good sport. Miss Mite.” 

“I are,” laughed she. “I am a very able woman, 
Jarvis. Some day you will be proud of me.” 

“You are a terrible egotist,” he objected. 

“If I didn’t believe in myself, where would I be? 
You and father scarcely notice me.” 

“I’m beginning to notice you,” Jarvis interrupted. 


BAMBI 113 

'‘I was really surprised to find how concerned I was 
not to disappoint you.” 

“That was nice of you, Jarvis,” she beamed at him. 

“Don’t do that,” he said sharply. 

“Do what?” 

“Smile like a cat at a mouse,” he said. 

“I intended that for a grateful smile.” 

“It didn’t turn out that. It was possessive. If 
I can’t be friendly with you without your over- 
occupying my thoughts, I shall ignore you.” 

“You mustn’t worry about liking me, Jarvis. 
It’s inevitable. People always like me. I become 
a necessity, like salt and pepper. Just accept me 
cheerfully, for here I am.” 

He looked at her, frowning. 

“Yes, there you are.” 

“That scowl is very becoming to you. You look 
like an angry viking.” 

“I am in no good mood to play.” 

“Oh, very well. Grandfather Grunt. I had such 
a nice day. Why don’t you ask me about it? ” 

“I should be interested to hear what you did.” 

“Your manners are painful but impeccable,” she 
laughed. “Well, I flittered and fluttered up and 
down the avenue, like a distracted butterfly. I 


114 BAMBI 

spent a few hours in Tiffany’s with such a pleasant 
man.” 

“Who was he?” 

“I don’t know. He was a clerk there. I went in 
to look at jewels.” 

“What for?” 

“Just for the joy of it.” 

“ And a clerk spent two hours with you? ” 

She nodded. 

“But why?” 

“Because I’m so charming, stupid. He asked me 
to come in next week to see some famous pearls. 
I also inspected a bookshop. I asked about the sale 
of published plays. I thought we might make your 
things into a book.” 

“If Broadway doesn’t want them? ” 

“Better still if Broadway does.” 

“Do you always go about making acquaintances? ” 
he inquired. 

“Always. People like to talk to me. I look so 
inoffensive.” 

He smiled at her saucy, tip-tilted face. 

“Any more adventures? ” 

“Oh, yes. A gay old man asked me if I was alone?” 
“What?” he exploded. 


BAMBI 115 

“He did. He liked my looks enormously. I could 
see it.” 

“Did you call a policeman ” 

“Not I. Do you think I am a ‘bitty-lum’.f^” 

“A what.^ ” he asked. 

“ Once a pig molicepan, 

Saw a bitty-lum, 

Sitting on a surbcone. 

Chewing gubber rum. 

Hi, said the molicepan, 

Will you sim me gome.^ 

Tinny on your nintype. 

Said the bitty-lum.” 

“How old are you.^ ” inquired Jarvis. 

“Well, I’ve got all my teeth.” 

“ What did you do with the old masher? ” 

“I squelched him.” 

“ Did he go away ? ” 

She nodded. 

“You must be more careful on the streets, Bambi. 
People misunderstand you.” 

“Well, I can always explain myself,” she added, 
laughing. 

“Then what did you do? ” 


116 


BAMBI 


“More or less directly, I came here, and lunched, 
in the conviction that you were closeted with Belasco. 
Did you have any lunch? ” 

“Yes. The blond one drove me out for half an 
hour.” 

“I should have gone with you.” 

“Why?” 

“I would never sit anywhere seven hours.” 

“ What would you have done? ” 

“Gone to Belasco’s house, or telephoned some- 
thing startling that would have brought him down 
quickly.” 

“For instance?” 

“Well, that the theatre was on fire.” 

“But when he got there? ” 

“I’d have made him see it was a joke.” 

“ Maybe he hasn’t that kind of a sense of humour? ” 

“Then I should have perished bravely.” 

So the incidents of their first day’s careering ended 
jocularly. 

Bambi called Mr. Strong on the wire next day, and 
told him of Jarvis’s unprofitable sitting. Could he 
get her a letter to Belasco? Or to any other leading 
manager? He laughed, said he did not know Belasco, 


BAMBI 


117 


but thought he could arrange it for her. He prom- 
ised to send a letter to the club. 

With this assurance to fall back upon, she persuaded 
Jarvis to go to the office of one of the newer managers 
who seemed to be of an open mind in regard to un- 
tried playwrights . She showed him a magazine article 
about this “live wire,” named over his productions, 
and repeated his cordial invitation to new writers. 

Jarvis set forth reluctantly. He liked salesman 
work as little as he had expected to. But he felt he 
owed some effort to Bambi, since he was her guest, 
and her mind was so set on his success. 

This time the cheeky-faced office boy admitted 
that the manager was in. He accepted and scruti- 
nized Jarvis’s card with disdain, but on his return 
from the inner office he ejaculated, “Wait!” So 
Jarvis sat down for his second endurance feat. The 
same Johnnies and Billies and Fays came to this 
office in their endless seeking. He began to vision 
the great, ceaseless army of them “making the 
rounds,” as they call it, often hungry and tired. 
They were most of them uneducated, you could tell 
by their speech, for all their long “a’s” and short 
“r’s. ” That they were physically unadapted to the 
profession was obvious enough in many cases. They 


118 


BAMBI 


were probably badly trained. How did they live.^ 
Where did they go ? They began to haunt him. 

He was interrupted by hearing his name called. 
He rose mechanically, and followed the boy into a 
very large and ornate office. A fat Jewish man, in 
loud clothes, a brown derby hat, and a cigar, sat at a 
desk, dictating. 

“H’are ye.^” he ejaculated as Jarvis entered. He 
went on dictating and smoking, until Jarvis fi Uy 
interrupted him, saying he wanted to see the m. a- 
ger. The fat man glared at him. 

Sit down until I get through ! ” he shouted. “ I'm 
the manager.” 

Jarvis took a chair and looked at the man closely. 
What would such a creature find in his play, with its 
roots in a modern condition, no more grasped by this 
man than by Professor Parkhurst? The absurdity 
of the idea struck Jarvis so forcibly that he laughed 
out loud. 

“Let’s have it, if it’s any good,” said the fat man. 

“I beg your pardon,” Jarvis replied. 

The manager dismissed the stenographer, took up 
Jarvis’s card, looked at it, and then at his victim. 

“Jarvis Jocelyn,” he read. “Good stage name. 
What’s your line, J arvis ? ” 



WELL, BELIEVE ME, THAT HIGH-BROW STUFF IS ON THE TOBOGGAN 



• •• 



BAMBI 


119 


I “ I’ve come to see you about a play.” 

• “ Oh, you’re a writer? What have you done? ” 

“ Several plays, and some poetry.” 

“Nix on the poetry. Who brought out the plays? ” 

“ Nobody yet. I am just beginning to offer them.” 

I ‘ ‘ What sort of stuff is it ? ” 

I “It’s a dramatic handling of the feminist move- 

! ment.” 

' “What’s that?” 

“The emancipation of woman.” 

“I hadn’t heard about it. Is your stuff funny? ” 

“No. It is a serious presentation of an unique 
revolution ” 

“Well, believe me, that high-brov/ stuff is on the 
toboggan. I knew it couldn’t last. I gave it to 
them when they demanded it, but I am cutting it out 
now. Haven’t you got a good melodrama, or a 
funny show?” 

“I have not,” superbly. 

“Say, do you know any Jews? I got a great idea 
for a Jew play that would take like the measles if 
some fellow would work it up. Pile of money in it.” 

Jarvis rose, furious. 

“It is so apparent that we have nothing to say to 
each other that I’ll bid you good morning.” 


120 


BAMBI 


“If you fellows who come in here from the country 
to run Broadway could put yourselves in a show, it 
would be the scream of the town,” said the fat man 
in Jarvis’s wake. 

“I’d rather starve than endure a pig like you!” 
cried Jarvis, as he fled. 

The fat man’s laugh followed him to th?e street. 
He hated himself, and the whole situation. It galled 
him to think he had deliberately submitted himself 
to such treatment. Even Bambi could not expect 
it of him, — to set him to sell his dreams in such a 
market. He charged down Broadway, clearing a 
wake as wide as a battleship in action. He saw red. 
He was unconscious of people. He only felt the 
animus of the atmosphere, the sense of things tug- 
ging at him, which had to be cast off. Why was he 
here? He wanted the quiet, the open stretches, and 
his own free thoughts. What turn of the wheel had 
brought him into this maelstrom? Bambi! The 
old story, Samson and Delilah! He had visioned 
great things. She had shorn him, and pushed him 
into a net of circumstances. He would not endure it. 
He would sweep her out of his life, and be about his 
work. 

He was disappointed to find her out when he re- 


BAMBI 


m 

turned to the club. He had his opening speech all 
ready and it was annoying to have his scene delayed. 
He raged about, to keep his wrath hot, until she came. 
“Greeting,” she began; then saw his face, and added, 
“Jungle beast!” 

“ I’ll not stay here another day ! ” he cried. 

“You saw the manager.^ ” 

“He asked me if the stuff was funny! He invited 
me to write a Jew play, and make a pot of money! 
He said ‘Nix on the high-brow stuff,’ and never 
heard of the feminist movement,” he blurted out in 
one breath. 

She sat down under the onslaught, trying to ar- 
range her rebellious features. 

“‘Nix on the high-brow stuff.’ To me!” he re- 
peated. 

Bambi gave up. She rolled on the bed, and 
laughed. 

Jarvis raged the room up and down. There was 
no gleam of humour in it for him. When her parox- 
ysm had passed, she sat up and looked at him. 

“ Poor old Knight with the Broken Lance,” she said. 
“ It’s tough, but it had to be done.” 

“What had to be done?” 

“This morning’s work. It was part of your train- 


122 BAMEI 

ing. You must know just what the situation is here, 
in the market-place.” 

“ But there is no place for me here.” 

“After two days’ failure, you give up.^ ”. 

“I told you I couldn’t sell my things. They are 
too good.” 

“That’s rubbish. Nothing you, nor I, nor any 
other human can think, is too good. If we have big 
thoughts, and want to tell them to our brothers who 
speak another tongue, if we have the brains, we must 
learn their tongue, not hope for them to acquire ours. 
That is what I hoped you would see.” 

“ You think I’ve got to learn the Broadway lingo ” 

“I do. If you have anything to say, Broadway 
needs it.” 

“I can’t translate what I want to say into that 
speech.” 

“But you can. It will mean hard work, hard 
work and heartache, and disappointment, but you 
can do it, because you have the soul stuff of a great 
man.” 

Her eyes shone now, misted with feeling. He saw 
again his multitudes flocking to him in the wilderness. 
He saw them aroused, revived, triumphant over life 
through him. 


BAMBI 


123 


“Will you help me?’’ he cried to her. It was his 
first uttered need of her, and her heart beat high in 
response. 

“I will, if you will let me. Jack o’ Dreams.” 

‘ ‘ Don’t let me give up ! Don’t let me lose heart ! ” 
“No, I won’t. I’ll push, or haul you, to the top ! ” 
“I came to scoff, and I stay to pray,” said Jarvis, 
cryptically. “God bless you, Bambi!”he added, as 
he left her. 


X 


N o LETTER from Mr. Strong arrived in the 
morning’s mail, so Bambi induced Jarvis to 
go over to the Cubist show, by himseK, on 
the plea that she had a headache. He went, most 
willingly, anywhere, except Broadway. 

The minute he was out of the way her languid, 
headachey manner changed to one of brisk energy. 
She donned her smartest frock and hat. She was 
more earnest in her effort to allure the eye than she 
was on the day of her own conquest. “You must 
look your best, you little old Bambi, you, and see 
what you can do for big Jarvis ! ” 

After the last nod of approval at her reflected self, 
she tucked Jarvis’s manuscript under her arm, and 
started forth. She had made a close study of all 
the theatrical columns of the papers and maga- 
zines since their arrival in New York, so she was 
beginning to have a formal bowing acquaintance with 
the names of the leading managers. 

In spite of her cheerful acceptance of Jarvis’s mood 

124 


BAMBI 


125 


of despair, the day before, she wa^ really deeply 
touched by it, and appealed to by his helplessness to 
cope with the situation. She remembered her words 
to her father, “He cannot accommodate himself to 
the commercial standards of the times.” It was so 
true. And was she right in submitting him to them 
so ruthlessly? Was she blunting something fine in 
him by this ugly picture she was holding up for him 
to see, of a thoroughly commercialized drama, the 
laws and restrictions of which he must know and con- 
quer, or be silenced? All the mother in her hated to 
have him hurt, but the sensible helpmeet part of her 
knew that it must be done. Of course he could not 
be expected to know how to approach managers, all 
at once. He was probably very tactless. He ad- 
mitted that he had called the enemy of yesterday a 
“ pig. ” Naturally that was no way to help his cause. 
Perhaps, after this experience, and his new cognizance 
of conditions, it would be better for him to write in 
quiet and solitude, while she acted as salesman. 

“I’m just plain adventuress enough to love the 
fight of it,” she admitted to herself as she approached 
the oflSce she had selected for her first try. She 
tripped in, confidently, and addressed the office boy. 

“Mr. Claghorn in? ” she asked. 


126 


BAMBI 


“Nope/’ 

“ When do you expect him? ” 

“ Oh, any time. He’s in and out.” 

“I’ll wait.” 

“Probably won’t be back until after lunch.” 

A railing shut off the hall where she stood from the 
office proper, where the boy was on guard. Doors 
opened off this central room into the private offices. 
There were no chairs in this hall, and the boy made 
no move to open the railing. 

“Is that large armchair in there rented for the 
day? ” Bambi inquired. 

“Not so far as I know,” he grinned. 

“Does this thing open, or do I have to jump it?” 
she smiled. 

“ Where are you goin’ ? ” 

“To the large armchair. ” 

“Welcome to our city,” said he, as he lifted the rail. 
“ Nobody allowed in here except by appointment.” 

“That’s all right. I understand that,” she said 
nonchalantly, and sank into the haven of the chair. 

All the details of the office, which bored Jarvis, or 
which he entirely failed to see, fascinated Bambi. 
She set herself to the subjection of the office boy, by 
a request for the baseball score. 


BAMBI 


m 


“ Say, are you a fan? ” he asked. • 

“ Can’t you see it in my eye? ” 

He was launched. He gave her a minute bio- 
graphical sketch of every player on the team, his 
past and future possibilities. He went over all the 
games of the past season, while Bambi turned an 
enraptured face upon him. 

He was frequently interrupted by actors and ac- 
tresses who came by appointment, or otherwise, and 
he gave her all the racy details concerning them at 
his disposal. By indirection she obtained a descrip- 
tion of Claghorn, so that he might not escape her if 
he came in. 

All the actors looked at her with interest, the ac- 
tresses with disdain. One whispered to the boy, who 
shook his head. 

“ Say, what you wid? ” he asked her later. 

“I don’t understand you.” 

His look became suspicious. “What show you 
with?” 

“With ‘Success,’” she answered hastily, patting 
the manuscript. 

“Road show?” 

“No.” 


“Playing New York? ” 


ns 


BAMBI 


“Not yet.” 

“ Gimme two pasteboards when you come to town. 
I’d like to see you.” 

“All right. What’s your name.f^ ” 

“Robert Mantell Moses. I’m going on, in comic 
opera, some day.” 

“So?” said Bambi. 

“ Song and dance. Are you a dancer? ” 

“lam.” 

“Toe or Tango?” 

“I beg pardon.” 

“Toe dancer, or Tango artist? ” 

“ Oh, I do them both.” 

“Do you do the Kitchen Sink? And the Wash 
Tub?” 

Bambi thought fast. “Yes. And the One-legged 
Smelt. Also the J abberwock Jig.” 

He inspected her suspiciously. 

“ Say, those are new ones on me.” 

“Really?” 

She was thoroughly enjoying herself when the 
brazen-mouthed clock twanged twelve. 

“ Goodness ! Is it as late as that? Glaghorn’s ins 
are mostly outs.” 

“ Give me that again.” 


r 


BAMBI 129 

“You said he was in and out.’’ 

“Nix on the rough stuff.” 

“ What a lovely phrase ! I must tell that to Jarvis.” 

“Who’s Jarvis? Your steady? ” 

“ No. He’s a — relative by marriage.” 

“Nix on the ‘in-laws’ for me.” 

He suddenly straightened up to attention as a big, 
fierce-looking man plunged in, nearly demolished the 
railing in passage, and made for a door marked “Pri- 
vate.” 

“Any mail? ” he shouted. 

“No. Lady to see you, sir,” the boy replied. 

Bambi rose to meet the foe, who never glanced at 
her. He jerked open the door, but he was not quick 
enough for the originator of the Jabberwock Jig. 
Her small foot was slid into the space between the 
door and the threshold. It was at the risk of losing 
a valuable member, but she was so angry at being 
ignored that she never thought of it. When the 
gentleman found that the door would not close, he 
stuck his head out, and nearly kissed Bambi, whose 
smiling countenance happened to be in the way. 

“ Well? ” he ejaculated. 

“Quite well, thank you,” she replied as she slid in 
the crack. He looked her over. 


130 


BAMBI 


“Where did you come from? ” he demanded. 

“I was out there when you swept the horizon with 
your eye, but you must have missed me. I didn’t 
run up a flag.” 

She was so little and so saucy that he had to smile. 

“What do you want? ” he asked directly. 

“ I want to talk with you, for about three minutes.” 

“ I don’t engage people for the shows.” 

“I don’t want a job.” 

“Well, what do you want? Talk fast. My time 
is precious.” 

“I have here a very fine play, called ‘Success,’ 
which would be a good investment for you.” 

“Who wrote it?” 

“My husband.” 

He glanced at her. 

“I thought child marriage was prohibited in this 
state.” 

She dimpled back at him, deliciously. 

“ It is modern, dramatic.” 

“Comedy?” 

“No.” 

“Nothing else has much chance. Leave it, and I 
will read it.” 

“When?” 



‘ lELL YOUR HUSBAND TO PUT YOU IN A PLAT, AND I LL 
PUT IT ON.” “much obliged, i’lL TELL 
HIM. GOOD morning” 


i',^' ij»i » (• - - A *.r • ^.-<k • 

c ^, '^1 ■ -\ ^ :-- ; V ; . W . 


:>X. -- , ./■^^' 

’ * * . *' 





BAMBI 


131 


‘‘As soon as I can.” 

“But we have to go home next Thursday.” 

You don’t expect me to read it before then? ” 

“Couldn’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t read Pinero’s latest before then.” 

“How soon would you read it? ” 

“I’ve got nine productions to look after. I only 
read on trains. I’m going to Buffalo to-night.” 

“Then you could take it along to-night? ” she cried 
happily. 

“ Say, who let you in here, anyhow? ” 

“You did.” 

“I’ve got no time to talk to anybody.” 

“I’m not anybody. I’m I. Just promise me 
you’ll read it to-night and I’ll go.” 

“ Is this it? Name and address on it? ” 

She nodded. 

“All right. To-night. Now get oiit ! ” 

“Thanks. I’ve had such a nice call.” As she 
reached the door he spoke. 

“Tell your husband to put you in a play and I’ll 
put it on.” 

“ Much obliged. I’ll tell him. Good morning.” 

She made her farewells to Robert Mantell Moses, 
went out and down the street. It was definitely set- 


132 BAMBI 

tied in her mind that she was to market Jarvis’s 
wares. She had a gift for it, a desperate courage in a 
crisis, that made her do anything to win her point and 
get what she came for. Jarvis would, no doubt, be 
sitting, still. He was waiting for her at the club. 

“I was getting anxious about you. Did you go 
to a doctor ” 

“Doctor.^” 

“For your head.^” 

“Oh, my head. I’d forgotten all about it. After 
you left, I felt so much better that I decided to go 
out.” 

“Looking for more adventures.^ ” 

“I never look for them. They — flock to my 
standard. No, I took the play and stormed a mana- 
ger’s office. I saw him, in spite of himself, and got 
him to promise to read the play to-night on the way 
to Buffalo.” 

“Who was he.?” 

“Claghorn.” 

“How did you get to him? ” 

“He ran through the big office into his private one, 
and was just about to pull up the drawbridge, when 
I sprang in after him.” 

“Just tell it to me in plain English, Bambi.” 


BAMBI 


133 


She described her entrance, with the subjection of 
the office boy, the ruse by which she got into the 
inner office, her interview with Claghorn, and his sub- 
sequent promise. 

“You are a wonder!” he exclaimed. “I never 
could have thought of it.” 

“I should say you wouldn’t. You’d have been sit- 
ting there yet.” 

“Did you tell him about the play ” 

“In three minutes.^ I should say not! I had to 
cram my words in, like loading a rapid-fire gun. 
Pouf ! Pouf ! And out ! ’ ’ 

“Did he seem intelligent.^ ” 

“Yes, rather. I have decided to see managers 
after this, Jarvis. It will be Jocelyn & Co. You do 
the work and I’ll sell it. It’s fun.” 

“It’s wonderful how the gods look after me,” he 
said. 

“Gods nothing! It’s wonderful how I look after 
you. You can burn incense to me.” 

“Ido.” 

The play came back shortly, with a brief note from 
Claghorn. It had some good points, but it was too 
serious. Not dramatic enough. The third act was 
weak. 


134 BAMBI 

“All the silly asses want me to make them laugh,” 
raged Jarvis. 

“I am disappointed in my new friend, but the 
letter to Belasco is here now, so we’ll have a talk with 
him. Will you go, or shall ” 

“I think I’d like to talk with him, and tell him my 
views,” Jarvis said. 

They sent in the letter, with a request for an inter- 
view. In the course of a few days a reply came say- 
ing that Mr. Belasco had gone West to see a new 
production, but if Mr. Jocelyn would send his play to 
the office it would receive the earliest possible atten- 
tion . It was a blow to their hopes, but there was noth- 
ing else to do, so they dispatched it by messenger. 

“I think, maybe, we had better plan to go back 
home to-morrow, and wait the decision there. The 
money is vanishing, and I am getting anxious about 
the Professor. He forgets to write anything of im- 
portance.” 

“All right. I’ll be glad to go back.” 

“Let’s go shop this afternoon, and take the morn- 
ing train to-morrow.” 

“Good. Suits me.” 

“What shall I take the Professor? I’ve thought 
and thought. He’s so hard to shop for.” 


BAMBI 


135 


“ Get him an adding machine ! ” 

Bambi withered him. 

“He would disinherit me on the spot. That’s like 
sending Paderewski a pianola.” 

“We must get something for Ardelia, too.” 

“I got her a red dress, a red hat, a salmon-pink 
waist, and handkerchiefs with a coloured border.” 

Once their thoughts turned toward the little house, 
and the arithmetical garden, they were anxious to get 
back. Their shopping tour was a gay affair, because 
it was their last outing. 

“Don’t you feel differently about New York? ” she 
asked him as they walked back. “It seems to me 
like a fascinating new friend I have made. I am 
sorry to leave it.” 

“I’m not. I’m not made for cities. People in- 
terest me for a while, then I forget them, and they 
are always under foot, in places like this. I trip 
over them, and they interrupt my thoughts.” 

“I’m so glad you are true to type,” she smiled up 
at him. 

“I’m deeply grateful and appreciative of your 
bringing me here,” he added awkwardly. 

“That was out of character, Jarvis. A month ago 
you would have taken it as your right.” 


136 


BAMBI 


“I’m beginning to realize that others may have 
rights, that even you may have some, Miss Mite.” 
“Never fear. I’ll protect mine,” she boasted. 

On the morrow they turned their faces toward 
home and the Professor. 


XI 


I T LOOKS very out-of-the-worldly, doesn’t it?” 
Bambi said as they came in sight of home. 

“It looks like Paradise to me,” sighed Jarvis, 
holding open the gate for her. 

“Enter Eve, dragging the serpent,” she laughed as 
she passed in. “ Eve never played in an arithmetical 
garden,” she added. “If she had, there would prob- 
ably have been no immortal fall.” 

“Thenumber eights look tired,” Jarvis commented, 
ignoring her witticism. 

She spied the Professor afar sitting at work on the 
piazza. She flew along the path and burst in upon 
him. 

“Daddy!” she cried, and enveloped him. His 
astonishment was poignant. 

“My dear,” he said, “my dear. Why, I must have 
forgotten that you were coming. I would have been 
at the station.” 

“I knew you’d forget, so I didn’t bother you with 
it. How are you? Have you been lonesome? Did 

137 


138 BAMBI 

you miss us? Where’s Ardelia?” all in a breath. 
The Professor smiled. 

“ Question one, I am well. Two, I cannot say that 
I have been lonesome. Three, I did not miss you. 
Four, Ardelia is in the kitchen. How are you, Jar- 
vis?” he added as his son-in-law appeared. 

“I am well, sir. I trust you are the same.” 

“Thank you. I enjoy good health .” 

“Stop it! Sounds like the first aid to manners. 
Here’s Ardelia. Well, how do you do? ” 

Ardelia’s face was decorated with a most expansive 
grin. 

“Howdy, Miss Bambi? Howdy, Massa Jarvis? 
I sho’r am glad to see you folks home again.” She 
shook hands with both of them. 

“How’s everything, Ardelia? ” 

“All right. Miss. Eberything is all right. We 
got ’long fine together, the Perfessor and me. We 
des went about forgettin’ eberyting and habin’ a 
mighty comfortable time. Did you all have a good 
time on your honeymoon? ” 

“Fine,” said Bambi. “We brought you some 
presents, that will make your eyes ache, and, ’Delia, 
we’re famished.” 

“Dog’s foot! Heah I stan’ a-gassin’ and a-talkin’ 


BAMBI 139 

and you all hungry as wolfses.” She hurried off, 
muttering. 

Jarvis and Bambi sat down. 

“Isn’t there something you want to tell me ? I can’t 
just remember what you went to New York for.^^ ” 

“We went to sell my play,” Jarvis prompted. 

“To be sure. It had escaped me for a moment. 
Were you successful ” 

“We were not.” 

“Oh, Jarvis, how can you say that.^ We don’t 
know yet. Belasco is considering it.” 

“ What is this Belasco ? ” 

Bambi looked at Jarvis, and they both laughed. 

“Isn’t he refreshing she remarked. “I’ve 
thought for two weeks in terms of managers. They 
fill the universe. They are the gods. Their nod is 
life or death, and now my nearest relative says, 
‘ What is Belasco? ’ ” 

“It’s a sort of meat sauce, isn’t it? ” 

Consternation on both their faces, then an out- 
burst from Bambi. 

“No, no! That’s tabasco, you dear, blessed inno- 
cent.” 

“Belasco is one of the leading managers in New 
York, Professor,” explained Jarvis, patiently. “He 


140 BAMBI 

is as well known as Pierpont Morgan or Theodore 
Roosevelt.” 

“Indeed! . Well, I am not surprised at my igno- 
rance. I have no interest in present-day drama. It 
is degenerate mush.” 

“Have you seen anything, since ‘Uncle Tom^s 
Cabin ’ ” Jarvis inquired. 

“I have seen ‘The Second Mrs. Tanqueray,’” he 
replied conclusively. 

“That was considered strong meat in its day, but 
now we have ‘Damaged Goods,’” mused Jarvis. 

“And what are ‘Damaged Goods’.^” inquired the 
Professor. 

“ What are Yonkers.^ Don’t tell him, Jarvis — he’s 
too young to know. It’s an ugly modern play. We 
saw some things you might have enjoyed. Oh, I 
often wished for you.” 

“Thank you, my dear, but I have no desire to 
enter that cauldron of humanity.” 

“I agree with you. Professor Parkhurst.” 

“That is a rare occurrence, I may say,” answered 
the Professor, with a twinkle. 

“Thank goodness, you have me to prod you into 
life. You would both sit in your dens and figure and 
write until you blinked like owls in the night. I have 


BAMEI 


141 


stored up energy enough, from these two weeks in 
the cauldron, to run me for months. I didn’t miss 
one thing, ugly or beautiful. I shall use it all.” 

“Use it? How use it, my dear?” 

“In my thoughts, my opinions, my life.” 

“ Dear me ! ” said her father, staring at her. “ What 
odd things you say ! ” 

“It’s true, what she says,” Jarvis ejaculated. 
“She rolled New York up on reels, like a moving- 
picture show, and I have no doubt she could give us a 
very good performance.” 

“I shall,” quoth Bambi. 

“It is rather a pity you waste your impressions, 
Bambi. Why don’t you write them down?” Jarvis 
patronized. 

“In a young lady’s diary, I suppose. No, thanks.” 

“One author in a family is enough,” commented 
the Professor, heartily. 

“You ought to tell us your conclusion about your 
career. Did you settle it in your mind? ” 

“I did.” 

“A career?” anxiously, from Professor Parkhurst. 

“ Yes, wealth and fame are in my grasp.” 

“You haven’t done anything rash, my dear? ” 

“ Well, slightly rash, but not the rashest I could do.” 


142 BAMBI 

“Is it dancing? ’’ from Jarvis. 

“Of a sort.” 

“Not public dancing? ” 

“No, private,” she giggled. 

“Will it take you away much?” Jarvis asked her. 

“Oh, I’ll go to New York occasionally.” 

“It is to be a secret, I take it?” the Professor said. 

“ It is, old Sherlock Holmes.” 

They slipped back into their routine of life as if it 
had never been broken. Jarvis, after two perturbed 
days of restlessness, went into a work fit over a new 
play. The Professor was busy with final examina- 
tions, so Bambi was left alone with plenty of leisure 
in which to do her next story. 

She wisely decided to write herself — in other 
words, to dramatize her own experiences, to draw on 
her emotions, her own views of life. She must leave 
it to Jarvis to rouse and stir people. She would be 
content to amuse and charm them. So she boldly 
called her tale by her own name, “Francesca,” and 
she shamelessly introduced the Professor and Jarvis, 
with a thin disguise, and chortled over their true 
likeness after she had dipped them in the solution 
of her imagination. She relied on the fact that 
neither of them ever looked between the covers of a 


BAMBI 


143 


magazine. Besides, even if they chanced upon the 
story, they would never recognize their own por- 
traits. 

A few days before the prize story was published, a 
special copy came to her from Mr. Strong. She hid 
it until the “Twins” were gone. Then she hurried 
out to the piazza and the hammock with it. It was 
a thrilling moment. “Prize Story by a Wonderful 
New Writer” stared up at her from the front page. 
Her tale had the place of honour in the makeup, and 
it was illustrated — double-page illustrations — by 
James Montgomery Flagg, the supreme desire of 
every young writer. She hugged the magazine. 
She scanned it over and over. She laid it on the 
table, picked it up casually, and turned to the first 
story indifferently, just to squeeze the full joy out of 
it. Then she pounded a pile of pillows into shape, 
drew her feet up under her, and began to read her 
own work. She smiled a good deal, she chuckled, 
finally she laughed outright, hugging herself. At 
this unfortunate moment Jarvis appeared. She 
looked as guilty as a detected criminal. 

“What’s the joke? ” 

“ Oh, I was laughing at a story in here.” 

“How can you read that trash? ” 


144 


BAMBI 


“It isn’t trash. It’s perfectly delightful.” 

“What is it.^” He came nearer to her, and she 
clutched the magazine tightly. 

“Oh, just a prize story.” 

“A prize story And funny enough to make you 
laugh Not O. Henry? ” 

“Of course not. He’s dead. A new writer, it 
says.” 

He held out his hands for it, and, perforce, she re- 
signed it to him. 

“Francesca ! ” he exclaimed. 

“Odd, isn’t it? That’s what attracted me to it,” 
Bambi lied. 

“Well, I suppose there are other Francescas. I 
came to ask you to listen to a scenario.” 

“Good! I shall be delighted,” she replied cor- 
dially, folding the magazine over her finger. 

So the fatal moment came and passed. Her secret 
was safe. She kept the cherished magazine in her 
own room, read and reread it, patting its cover, as 
one would a curly head. 

Upon the receipt of her second story came a tele- 
gram from Strong, “Can you see me on Thursday? 
New plan for stories. Arrive in Sunny side ten in the 
morning.” She wired him to come, then sat down 


BAMBI 


145 


to work up an explanation of him for the "‘Heavenly 
Twins.” He would be there for lunch — he must be 
accounted for. She discarded several plans, and 
finally decided to introduce him as the brother of a 
college classmate, in town for the day. She would 
get rid of the family speedily, so that she and Mr. 
Strong might have time for the conference. What 
on earth did he want to see her about.^^ It must be 
important, to bring him from New York. Maybe he 
was disappointed with the second story, and wanted 
to break the contract. It was his kind way to come 
and say it, instead of writing it, but it was a blow. 
She had felt that the second tale was so much better 
than the first. She went over it, in her mind, trying 
to pick flaws in it. Well, she could always go to danc- 
ing, if everything else failed. 

At lunch she casually remarked, “Richard Strong 
is coming to lunch on Thursday. I hope you will 
both be here.” 

“Who may Richard Strong be?” inquired her 
father. 

“He is the brother of an old classmate, Mary 
Strong.” 

“ Does he live here? ” Jarvis asked. 

“No. He lives in New York.” 


146 


BAMBI 


“ What brings him to Sunny side? ’’ 

“He didn’t say.” 

“I never heard of him before,” Professor Park- 
hurst said. 

“Oh, yes. I used to talk about him a great deal. 
He’s a fine fellow.” 

“Was he a special friend?” Jarvis asked, roused to 
some interest. 

Bambi hesitated. She was getting in deeper than 
she planned . 

“Yes, rather special. Not intimate, but special.” 

“ What is his business? ” asked her father. 

“ I don’t remember.” 

“Rich idler, I suppose,” Jarvis scorned. 

“ He used to work when I knew him.” 

“Well, we shall be glad to see the young man. 
Would you like me to change off my afternoon 
classes and remain at home? ” 

“Oh, no. Don’t think of it! ” Bambi cried, with 
unpremeditated warmth, which focussed Jarvis’s 
eyes upon her. “He’ll be here only a little while, 
and we will reminisce. He would bore yoii to 
death.” 

“ I like to be cordial to your beaus.” 

“Professor Parkhurst, I am a married woman.” 


BAMBI 147 

“Dear me, so you are. I am always forgetting 
Jarvis. If he is a bore. I’ll lunch at the club.” 

“Possibly you would prefer me to lunch out, too,” 
said Jarvis, pointedly. 

“Not at all. I want you both here,” said Bambi, 
with irritation, closing the incident. She had a 
feeling that she had not handled the situation as well 
as she had planned to do. 


XII 


HURSDAY, and Mr. Strong arrived with 



the inevitableness of dreaded events. 


Bambi felt convinced that his coming meant 
the premature death of her new-born career, so, nat- 
urally, she was prepared for grief. An element of 
amusement was added, however, by Jarvis’s astonish- 
ing behaviour. Ever since the first mention of Mr. 
Strong’s name he had shown unmistakable signs of 
dislike for that gentleman. It was the most remark- 
able revelation of his strange character. Having 
totally ignored Bambi himself, it distressed him to 
think of any other man being attracted by her. His 
references to Mr. Strong’s coming were many and 
satirical. This display of manly inconsistency was 
nuts and ale to Bambi. She wondered how much 
Mr. Strong would play up, and she decided to give 
Jarvis Jocelyn an uncomfortable hour. She herself 
was an adept in amatory science, but she was a trifle 
unsure of Mr. Strong. ' However, she remembered a 
certain twinkle in his eye that augured well. 


148 


BAMEI 


149 


Because it was necessary to enlighten him as to the 
situation in advance, she arrayed herself most care- 
fully to go and meet him. She encountered Jarvis 
on the stairs. He inspected her charming self, in a 
frock the colour of spring green leaves, topped by a 
crocus-coloured hat, like a flower. She deliberately 
pranced before him. 

“Aren’t I a delight to the eye? ” 

He stared at her coldly. 

“Such ardent admiration embarrasses me, Jarvis,” 
she protested. 

“ You look very nice,” he admitted. 

“Nice! Nice! I look like a daffodil, or a crocus, 
or some other pleasant spring beauty.” 

“I am glad you are so pleased with yourself. I 
trust Strong will be equally appreciative.” 

“I hope so when I have gone to so much trouble 
for him,” she tossed back over her shoulder, in pun- 
ishment. 

As Mr. Strong stepped off the train and faced her, 
it would be hard to say whether admiration or as- 
tonishment constituted the greater part of his ex- 
pression. 

“ Mrs. Jocelyn, why this is too kind of you ! ” 

“Not at all. City people are so unused to our 


150 BAIVIBI 

devious country ways that I was afraid you would 
get lost.” 

Admiration was certainly on top now. 

“ If you don’t mind, we will walk. It isn’t far.” 

“The farther the better,” he replied gallantly. 

They set forth, down the shady village street, 
where the trees almost met overhead. Strong drew 
in deep breaths of the fresh morning air. His eyes 
kept returning to the little French figure at his side, 
so metropolitan, and yet so much the dominant note in 
any setting in which he had seen her. She chattered 
on, about the town, the university, and the sights. 

“I refrain from pointing out the town hall, and the 
Carnegie Library,” she said. 

“I am grateful,” he bowed. 

“Are you married.^ ” she darted at him, out of their 
impersonality. 

“No, alas!” 

“ That helps a little.” 

His surprise was evident. 

“ I’m afraid I’ve got you into rather a box.” 

“I don’t mind, if you will play Pandora.” 

“Thanks. You remember that I told you that 
my — my career was to be a secret from the ‘ Heav- 
enly Twins’.?” 


BAMBI 


“I suppose my career is about over, but I don’t 
want them to know about it.” 

“Excuse me. What’s that — about your career 
being over?” 

“That’s why you’ve come, isn’t it? You didn’t 
like the last story? ” 

He stared at her, and then burst out laughing. 

“You thought I would come way out here from 
New York to tell you I didn’t like it? ” 

“I have a high opinion of your kindness,” she 
nodded. 

“ You nice little girl ! ” he added impetuously. “I 
came partly because I wanted to talk to you again, 
partly because I wanted to see Jarvis and the Pro- 
fessor.” 

She smiled and nodded encouragement. 

“Then, too, we’ve had such a raft of letters about 
the ‘Francesca’ story that I want to talk to you 
about making a novel of it, to run serially, instead of 
the short stories we arranged for.” 

‘ ‘ A novel ? You want me to write a novel ? ’ ’ 

“We do.” 

“But I wonder if I could?” she said, in an awed 


voice. 


152 


BAMBI 


“Of course you could. The second story was rip- 
ping.” 

“Was it? Was it?” She clapped her hands joy- 
ously. 

“We can use it as Chapter Two, with very few 
changes, and from now on you can build your story 
about the characters you have introduced, with a 
spinal cord of plot to give it shape.” 

“It frightens me to death, to think of doing it. I 
have always thought it took genius to write a novel.” 

“My dear young woman, not in this day, when 
publishing houses gush books like so many geysers. 
Anybody with your gift of words and vivid reac- 
tions ought to find writing the line of least resist- 
ance. Of course you can do it.” 

“I’d adore trying if you’d help me.” 

“That’s agreed.” 

He watched the concentration of her face with 
interest. She was wrapped in the thought of the book. 
She was attacking it, on all sides, with the lance of 
her mind. When she threw herself into every new 
interest with such abandon, it was no wonder that she 
gave out impressions with the same intensity. 

*‘What about the box I’m in?” he reminded her. 
She came out of her trance with a start. 


BAMBI 


153 


“I’d forgotten all about you,” she said frankly. 
“I had to explain you to the ‘Heavenly Twins,’ 
somehow. If I said you were an editor, they would 
naturally ask why you came to see me? ” 

“I never thought of that. I am afraid I’ve put 
you in an embarrassing position.” 

“ Oh, not at all. I’ve put you in one. I told them 
you were the brother of an old classmate, stopping 
over in town for a day, and that you were to look me 
up.” 

“Did I know you well when you were in college?” 
he smiled. 

“I didn’t intend to have you know me well, but 
Jarvis showed such unexpected interest in you that 
you are suspected of having known me rather well.” 

“ Sort of an old affair? ” 

“ Sort of,” she laughed up at him. 

“I get the idea. Have I your permission to play 
the role in my own way ? ” 

“Yes, only don’t betray me. The ‘Twins’ will 
only be around at lunch-time. After that, we can 
talk book.” 

“Good! I’ll play up with my best amateur the- 
atrical manner,” he responded, as they entered the 
garden. “This is the arithmetical garden,” he said 


154 


BAMBI 


“It’s true. Why, it’s just like an ‘Alice in Wonder- 
land’ experience, coming into something I have 
known in some other state of consciousness.” 

“Oh, yes, it’s true. That’s all I am, a sort of a 
camera.” 

“What a picture-book house!” he added. “It’s 
just right for you.” 

As they went into the screened porch Jarvis arose, 
slowly, from the hammock. Mr. Strong stopped, 
really amazed, as the splendid figure, with its Apollo 
head, advanced. Bambi, too, was struck with some 
new alive quality in Jarvis that was compelling. 

“This is Mr. Strong, Jarvis.” The two men meas- 
ured each other swiftly. 

“I am glad to meet you,” said Jarvis, with deter- 
mined politeness, 

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet Mrs. Joce- 
lyn’s husband.” 

Bambi laughed. 

“Mrs. Jocelyn’s husband is a new role for Jarvis,” 
said she. 

“I understand you and Mrs. Jocelyn are old 
friends,” said Jarvis, perfunctorily. 

“We are indeed old and dear friends.” 

“ It has been some years since you met.^ ” 


BAMBI 


155 


“Yes, although I couldn’t realize it this morning. 
There is a vivid quality about Mrs. Jocelyn which 
makes it impossible to forget anything about her. 
Don’t you think so? ” 

Jarvis looked at Bambi, who grinned. 

“Do you find me vivid, Jarvis? ” 

“You are certainly highly coloured.” 

“Ugh! That sounds like a Sunday supplement.” 

Conversation limped along like a tired cab horse. 
Even Bambi could not prod it into a semblance of 
life. Besides, she was choked with laughter at the 
picture of Jarvis sitting up, during his sacred work 
hours, full of bromides and manners. A discussion 
of New York almost released him. He thundered 
against modern cities with force. New York, dis-* 
covered to be the home of Strong, became anathema 
to his host. It was the Goliath of Tyranny, Wealth, 
Degeneration, against which, David-like, he aimed his 
sling. Strong led him on, interested in his personality. 

“Mrs. Jocelyn does not share your opinion of New 
York?” 

“There are many of my opinions in which Mrs. 
Jocelyn does not share.” 

“Fortunately. Same opinions ought to constitute 
grounds for divorce,” said Bambi. 


156 BAMBI 

“ I understand you write plays, Mr. Jocelyn.?^ ” 

“Ido.” 

“You will have to endure New York, now and 
again, I suppose, when you begin to produce.” 

“We have formed a partnership,” Bambi inter- 
polated. “ He writes and I sell.” 

“You are a lucky man,” Strong complimented 
him. 

Jarvis ignored the remark. Strong wondered why 
on earth Bambi had married him. He was wonderful 
to look at, but his manners were impossible. If he 
was in love with her, he disguised it successfully. 
The entrance of the Professor saved the situation. 

“This is Mr. Strong, Professor. My father. Pro- 
fessor Parkhurst.” 

The Professor’s hand-clasp and absent-minded 
smile seemed like a perfect character make-up. It 
was the kind of thing David Warfield would have 
played excellently. Strong had to shake himself to 
realize that these were real people, they were so in- 
dividualized, so emphasized, like characters in a play. 

“I am always glad to welcome my daughter’s old 
friends,” he said. “I forget when it was you knew 
each other, my dear.” 

“At college.” 


BAMBI 157 

“Ah, yes, I remember. In college. How is your 
sister?’’ 

“My sister?” repeated Strong. Bambi gasped. 
She had forgotten to tell him about Mary. 

“I refer to your sister Mary,” the Professor went 
on. 

“Oh, sister Mary? Oh ” Strong recovered 

himself. 

“You have other sisters? ” 

“Yes, oh, yes. Many.” 

“Many, indeed ! How many, may I ask? ” 

“Thirteen,” at a venture. 

“Thirteen sisters ! That is astonishing ! And you 
are the only brother? ” 

“The only one.” 

“Are they all living? ” 

“No. All dead.” 

“Not Mary? ” exclaimed Bambi. 

“No, no, I meant to omit Mary. All but Mary 
are gone.” 

“That is very sad,” sighed the Professor. “Thir- 
teen sisters ! How were they named ? ” 

“ After the thirteen original states,” replied Ananias 
Strong. 

“Extraordinary, but Mary ” 


158 


BAMBI 


“Short for Maryland,” prompted Strong. 

Bambi almost choked. The subject seemed to 
fascinate her father. 

“Is Mary married? ” he inquired. 

“Yes, quite. Quite married.” 

“I forget whether she visited us, my dear.” 

“No, Mary never came to Sunnyside.” 

“What a pity the friendships of our young days 
pass away, isn’t it? ” 

“Not at all. It’s a blessing,” snapped Jarvis. 
“When you think of all the donkeys you played with 
in your youth ” 

“Mary was not a donkey,” giggled Bambi. 

“I wasn’t speaking of Mary,” he remarked. 

“I thought you said you were going to lunch in 
your room to-day, Jarvis, ” the Professor remarked. 

“That was yesterday,” Bambi said quickly. 

“Oh, I can never remember details.” 

“I thought that was what you did remember,” 
challenged Jarvis. 

“You refer to figures. They are not details. 
They are of enormous importance,” began Professor 
Parkhurst. 

“Now, children, let us not trot out the family 
skeleton. The ‘Heavenly Twins ’ can talk from now 


BAMBI 


159 


until doomsday tolls on the importance or non- 
importance of mathematics. It’s as thrilling as 
modern warfare when they get started, but I can’t 
afford to let them go, because they get so excited.” 

“Luncheon am served, Miss Bambi,” announced 
Ardelia. 

Bambi led the way, with a sigh of relief. If she 
could only get through with it, and get the happy 
family out of the way ! Jarvis must be punished for 
bad behaviour, and she set herself to the task at once. 
She turned her attention wholly upon Mr. Strong. 
She laughed and shined her eyes at him, referring to 
the dear, old days in the most shameless manner. 
She fairly caressed him with her voice, and his de- 
votion capped her own. 

The Professor ate his lunch oblivious to the com- 
edy, but Jarvis scarcely touched his. Some new, pain- 
ful thing was at work in him. He resented it every 
time this man looked at Bambi. He wanted to 
knock him down, and order her off to her room. 
Most of all, he was furious with himself for caring. 
He had the same instinct which possessed him in New 
York when he rushed to the club to sweep her out of 
his life, and so save himself. He determined to leave 
the moment luncheon was over. She must never 


160 


BAMBI 


know what a bad hour she had given him. Poor, 
ostrich Jarvis, with his head in the sands ! 

The luncheon was one of the most amusing events 
in Richard Strong’s experience, and as for Bambi, she 
was at her best. She enjoyed herself utterly, until 
coffee put a period to Act Two. 


XIII 


M r. STRONG’S visit left its impress on all 
three members of the household. The 
Professor referred to him as the man with 
the thirteen sisters, and wished him reinvited to the 
house. Bambi treasured the day he spent with her as 
a turning point in her life. Surely new vistas opened 
up to her as a result of his coming. But to Jarvis the 
memory of the day was extremely painful. He took 
Bambi’s punishment very seriously. He conceived 
Strong to be a former lover whom she welcomed back 
with affectionate ardour. He knew enough of her odd 
personality to be totally in the dark as to what she 
would do if she found herself suddenly in love with 
Strong. The main difficulty was, however, that he 
cared what she did — he, Jarvis, the free man! He 
realized that this was a flag of danger, and he answered 
the warning by sedulously avoiding Bambi for the 
next few days. She was too busy with the plans for 
the book to notice, although she caught him looking 
at her once or twice in a strange, speculative way. 

161 


162 


BAMBI 


Their peace was broken, however, a few days after 
Mr. Strong’s famous visit by a letter from the Belasco 
olSce, accompanied by the play. Mr. Belasco re- 
gretted that the play was not just what he wanted. 
It had some excellent points, etc., but as he had 
already arranged for so many productions during the 
coming season, he felt he could not take on anything 
more at present. He would be glad to read anything 
Mr. Jocelyn might submit. Jarvis handed it on to 
Bambi. 

“As I told you,” he remarked. 

“It never got to Belasco,” said Bambi, confidently. 
“ If it had, he would have seen its possibilities.” 

“Is something thematter?” inquired the Professor. 

“Belasco has refused Jarvis’s play.” 

“So. He didn’t like that abominable woman any 
better than I did.” 

“ She is not abominable ! ” from Jarvis. 

“Be quiet, you two, and let me think.” 

“If you would learn concentration you would not 
need quiet in which to think,” protested her parent. 

“Oh, if I would learn to be a camel I wouldn’t need 
a hump,” returned Bambi, shortly. 

“ I don’t think a hump would be becoming to you,” 
mused the Professor, turning back to his book. 


BAMBI 163 

“ We’ll send it to Parke, Jarvis.” 

‘‘ What’s the use? ” 

“Don’t be silly. Every manager in New York 
shall see that play before we stop. We will send it 
to his wife. Maybe she will read it.” 

“Do as you like about it,” he answered, with su- 
perb impersonality. 

She took his advice and got it off at once, addressed 
to the actress. In a week came a letter in reply say- 
ing that Miss Harper would like to talk to Mr. Joce- 
lyn about the play, and making an appointment at 
her house two days later. 

This letter threw them into great excitement. 
Jarvis protested, first, that he could not be inter- 
rupted at his present work, which interested him. 
Bambi pooh-poohed that excuse. Then he said he 
had never talked to an actress, and he had heard they 
were a fussy lot. She would probably want him to 
change the play; as he would not do that, there was 
no use seeing the woman. Bambi informed him that 
if Miss Harper would get the play produced, it would 
pay Jarvis to do exactly what she wanted done. 
Then he protested he hated New York. He didn’t 
want to go back there. Bambi finally lost her temper. 

“If you are going to act like a balky horse, I give 


164 


BAMBI 


you up. Until you get started, you will have to 
do a great many things you will not like, but if I 
were a man, I would never let any obstacles down 
me.” 

“ When can I get a train? ” meekly. 

“You can take the same train we took before, to- 
morrow morning.” 

A great light broke for Jarvis. 

“ I can’t go. I haven’t any money.” 

“ I have. I’ll lend it to you.” 

“ I must owe you thousands now.” 

“ Not quite. We can do this all right.” 

“ Have you got it all down? ” 

“ In the Black Maria,” she nodded. 

So the long and the short of it was that Jarvis went 
off to New York again. No martyr ever approached 
the stake with a more saddened visage than he turned 
upon Bambi as the train pulled out. She waved her 
hand at him, smiling pleasantly, but he was sorrowful 
to the last glimpse. 

“Poor old baby ! ” she laughed. “He shall stay in 
New York a while. He is getting too dependent on 
mamma.” 

She really welcomed his absence. It gave her so 
much more time for her own work, which absorbed 


BAMBI 


165 


and delighted her. She had never known any sensa- 
tion so pleasurable as that sense of adventure with 
which, each morning, she went to work. First, she 
patted the manuscript pile, which grew so amazingly 
fast. Then she filled her fountain pen and looked 
off over the treetops, beyond her window, until, like 
Peter Pan, she slipped off into another world, the 
Land of Make Believe, a country she had discovered 
for herself and peopled with human beings to suit her 
own taste. To be sure, her story concerned itself 
mainly with herself, Jarvis, and the Professor, but 
only the traits that made them individual, that made 
them “they,” were selected, and the experiences she 
took them through were entirely of her own making. 
It was such fun to make them real by the power of 
words; to make many people know them and love 
them, or condemn them, as the case might be. In 
fact, creation was absorbing. 

“It’s very quiet around here since Jarvis left,” 
commented the Professor a few days later. 

“I never thought Jarvis was noisy.” 

“ Well, he’s like distant thunder.” 

“And heat lightning,” laughed Bambi. 

“ Do you happen to miss him.^ ” 

“Me.?» Oh, not at all. Doyou.^"” 


166 


BAMBI 


“It always frets me to have things mislaid that I 
am used to seeing around. When you change the 
furnishings about, it upsets me.” 

“Do you look upon Jarvis as furniture.^” she 
teased him. 

“I look upon him as an anomaly.” 

“How so 

“William Morris said, ‘You should never have 
anything in your house which you do not know to be 
useful, and believe to be beautiful.’ ” 

“I think Jarvis is beautiful.” 

“That great mammoth ” 

“He’s like Apollo, or Adonis.” 

“He certainly needs all Olympus to stretch out on. 
He clutters up this little house.” 

“ I am sorry you don’t like Jarvis, Professor.” 

“I do like him. I am used to him. I enjoy 
disagreeing with him. I wish he would come 
home.” 

His daughter beamed on him. 

“Then he is also useful as a whetstone upon which 
you sharpen your wits. William Morris had nothing 
on me when I added Jarvis to our Penates.” 

Jarvis’s first letter she read aloud to her father, and 
they both laughed at it, it was so Jarvis-like. 


BAMBI 


167 


“Dear Bambi,” he wrote, “I am in this vile cess- 
pool of humanity again, and I feel like a drowning 
gnat. I did not go to the club, as you told me to, 
because I thought I could live more economically if 
I took a room somewhere and ‘ate around.’ I left 
my bag at the station, while I went to an address 
given me by a young man I met on the train. He 
said it was plain but clean. He told me some ex- 
periences he had had in boarding and lodging houses. 
They were awful! This place is an old three-story 
house, of the fiendish mid- Victorian brand — dark 
halls, high ceilings, and marble mantels. It seemed 
clean, so I took a room, almost as large as your linen 
closet, where I shall spend the few days I am here. 
My room has a court outlook, and was hotter than 
Tophet last night, but of course you expect to be hot 
in summer. 

“I went to see Miss Harper, at the time appointed, 
this morning. She lives up Riverside Drive. She 
is a pleasant woman, who seems to know what she 
wants. She thinks that if I write a new third act, 
and change some things in the second act, Mr. Parke 
might produce it. I defended the present form, and 
tried to show her that the changes she wants will 
weaken the message of the play. She says she doesn’t 
care a fig for my message. She wants a good part. 
My impulse was to take my work and leave, but I re- 
membered how important this chance seemed to you, 
so I swallowed my pride, though it choked me, and 
promised to make a scenario of the changes, to sub- 
mit at once. I may have to stay on a few days to do 
things over as she wants me to do. The play is 
ruined for me, already. 


168 


BAMBI 


“I suppose it is cool and quiet where you are. 
The noise and heat are terrible here. I forgot to say 
that I have to hurry with ‘ Success/ because the lady 
is going to Europe in a fortnight, and insists it must 
be finished by that time. I hope she won’t crack 
the whip. It makes me nervous. I am such a new 
trained bear. 

“I’d rather argue with the Professor to-night than 
be here, or even talk with you. I wish you didn’t 
want me to be a success, Bambi. Couldn’t you let 
me off.? My regards to you both. Tell Ardelia that 
nobody in New York knows anything about cooking. 
There seem to be thousands of people eating around, 
and oh, such food ! Good night. 

“Jarvis.” 

“He is homesick,” said the Professor, as Bambi 
finished and folded the letter. 

“Homesick to argue with you,” snapped Bambi. 

“ He said, ‘ Or talk with you.’ ” 

“Excuse me. He said, ‘Or even talk with you.’ 
I shall punish him for that.” 

“He isn’t comfortable. Hot and mid-Victorian. 
He isn’t responsible,” excused her father. 

“He won’t be comfortable when he gets the pen- 
alty,” said Bambi, fiercely. 

“I am surprised that he consented to change his 
play. Samson’s locks are certainly shorn.” 

“ What do you mean by that? ” 


BAMBI 


169 


“You have shaved him, my dear.” 

“Are you calling me Delilah.^^ ” 

“You can’t deny that he would never be where he 
is, doing what he is now, if he were not married to 
you.” 

“What of it.^ Time he had a little discipline. He 
needs it and his work needs it.” 

“Well, he’s getting it.” 

“Are you pitying him because he isn’t as mad as 
he was when I caught him.? ” 

“He’s still mad, nor’ by nor’east.” 

“I’ll make a human being and a big artist out of 
Jarvis before I am through.” 

“Be careful that you don’t lose everything in him 
that makes him Jarvis.” 

“ Do you think that I can’t do it.? ” 

“I only say that creation, like vengeance, is God’s. 
It is dangerous when man tampers with it.” 

Upon a sudden impulse, she went to lean over him 
and kiss his bald head. 

“I’ll remember that, Herr Vater,” said she. 

As the result of their talk, her reply to Jarvis was 
not so fierce as she had planned to make it, in her first 
indignation at his “even you.” She did not pat him 
on the back for making concessions about the play. 


170 


BAMBI 


She merely said she was glad he was acting so sensibly 
about it, and that if she was the mainspring of that 
action she was proud. As for letting him off, he was 
the only living person who could keep him on, or let 
him off. If he was the sort of softling who could not 
stand up under life’s discipline because it was un- 
comfortable or unpleasant, then no power on earth 
could hold him to accomplishment. But, endowed as 
he was, with brain, imagination, sensibilities, health, 
it lay in his power to actually create himself, to say 
“such and such a man will I be,” making every touch 
of life’s sculpturing fingers count, “even the pinches,” 
she added, picturesquely. Of course he must stay 
in New York as long as necessary. If he was un- 
comfortable, he must move. He could not do good 
work under irritating conditions. She told him that 
the Professor missed him, and Ardelia contemplated 
sending a box of goodies. She omitted any mention 
of her own state of mind or feelings in regard to him 
or his actions. Here was the punishment for his 
“even you,” and he pondered long over it. 

“What on earth did she marry me for? She doesn’t 
care a straw about me, only what I can make of my- 
self,” he mused, a trifle bitterly. But he went to 
work at “Success” with the abandon of a house- 


BAMEI 


171 


wrecker, pulling it to the foundation. He used the 
sledge-hammer on scenes he loved. He loosened 
and pitched out phrases he had mulled over long, and 
in the dust of the affray he forgot the sting that lay 
behind Bambi’s words. If she wanted him famous, 
famous would he be. 


XIV 


HREE boiling days, and the major part of 



three boiling nights, Jarvis sweated and 


toiled over the scenario for the revised two 


acts. It was work that irked him, because he hated 
doing things over when the first glad joy of inspira- 
tion was gone, but he stuck to it. And the fourth 
day he set out for the house far up the Riverside 
Drive, armed with his manuscript and a sense of 
triumph. 

Arrived at his destination, the butler announced 
that Miss Harper had gone on a motor trip for two 
days. No, she had left no word. Angry at himself 
for not having provided against such a situation by 
an appointment with the lady, furious at the thought 
of two days’ delay, he betook himself to the Parke 
offices in the hope of finding some word for him there. 
Mr. Parke was busy and could not see him, an- 
nounced the keeper of the keys to heaven, who sat at 
the outer gate. No, Mrs. Parke had left no word 
for a Mr. Jocelyn. No, she knew nothing of Mrs. 


172 


BAMBI 173 

Parke’s plans or movements. No, she could not ask 
Mr. Parke. Besides, he wouldn’t know. 

Jarvis descended the many stairs in a thickening 
gloom. Wait, wait, wait! That was part of the 
discipline Bambi talked of so wisely. Well, he then 
and there decided that the day would come when he 
would walk past every managerial outpost in the city, 
and invade the sanctum without so much as present- 
ing a visiting-card. 

The automobile trip lasted four days instead of 
two, and he spent them in a fret of impatience. He 
worked at the third act, sure of her approval. On 
the fifth day she received him. She liked the idea 
of the second act — she would have none of the new 
third act. At the end of his enthusiastic sketch of 
how it would run, the reading of new scenes, the tell- 
ing of new business, she yawned slightly, and said 
she didn’t like it at all. Unless he could get a good 
third act, she wouldn’t care for the piece. He as- 
sured her this would be a good third act when it was 
worked up. No use working it up. She knew now 
she would never like it. J arvis rose. 

“ I will submit the new third act to-morrow. Have 
you any suggestions you wish to incorporate?” 

“Oh, no. If I could write plays, I would not 


174 BAMBI 

be acting them. It’s easier and more lucrative to 
write.” 

“I don’t find it easy enough to be a bore,” replied 
Jarvis. “ I will be here at eleven to-morrow.” 

“Make it three.” 

“Very well, three.” 

“Some of the pinches,” he muttered as he climbed 
the bus to go back to his hot hall bedroom, his mind a 
blank, and only twenty-five hours in which to work 
out a new third act. 

He stripped for action and worked until midnight. 
Then he foraged on Fourth Avenue for food at an 
all-night cafe patronized by car-men, chauffeurs, and 
messenger boys. He ate ravenously. Afterward 
he swung downward to Madison Square Park, to 
stretch his tired body. The stars were very bright, 
but a warm wind crowded people on to the streets. 
A restless, aimless crowd of strollers! Several of 
them spoke to Jarvis. Many of them marked him. 
But he paid no attention to individuals. His mind 
was full of the whole picture. Mile after mile of 
narrow streets between blocks of stone and brick and 
wood. Thousands of people tramping the miles 
like so many animals driven from the jungle by fire 
or flood. This men called civilization — this City 



SOFTLINGS! POOR SOFTLINGS!” JARVIS MUTTERED, BAMBl’s WORDS COMING BACK TO HIM 






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BAMBI 


175 


of Stone Blocks! How far was it from the jungle? 
Hunger, thirst, lust, jealousy, anger, courage, and 
cowardice — these were the passions of both fast- 
nesses. How far was Man from his blood brother, 
the Wolf? 

He reached the green square, and started to cross 
it. On every bench, crowded together, huddled the 
sleepers. He walked slowly, and looked at them 
closely. Most of them were old — old men and old 
women — warped out of all semblance to human 
beings, their hideous faces and crooked bodies 
more awful in the abandon of sleep. Some young 
ones there were, too : a thin boy with a cough ; a tired 
girl of the streets, snatching a moment of sleep be- 
fore she went about her trade. It was like some fan- 
tastic dream. 

“Softlings! Poor softlings!’’ Jarvis muttered, 
Bambi’s words coming back to him. The tawdry 
little girl stirred, saw him, spoke to him, her hand 
upon his arm. 

“Go get a decent bed, child,” he said, giving her 
some money. 

Her eyes shone at him in the half light like Bambi’s, 
and he shuddered. As she sped away a sudden rage 
possessed him. W’^hy did they endure, these patient 


176 


BAMBI 


beasts? They numbered thousands upon thousands, 
these down-and-outs. Why did they not stand to- 
gether, rise up, and take? Why didn’t he shout 
them awake, and lead them himself? “Gimme a 
nickel to get a drink? ” whined a voice at his elbow. 

“Here, you, move on!” said the policeman, 
roughly, arousing Jarvis from his trance. 

On the way uptown to his room he thought it over. 
If they could organize and stand together, they 
wouldn’t be what they were. It was because they 
were morally and physically disintegrated that they 
were derelicts. This waste was part of the price 
we must pay for commercial supremacy, for money 
power, for — oh, sardonic jest! — for a democracy. 

He went back to work with squared shoulders, 
and worked until dawn. At three the next afternoon 
he again presented himself to the Parke butler. 
Madame was indisposed, could see no one. Mr. 
Jocelyn was to come the next day at three. 

This time he wasted no energy in rage at the delay. 
He began to see that this was no sham battle on a 
green hillside of a summer’s day, but a real hand-to- 
hand fight. It was to place him, for all time, at the 
head of the regiment or with the discards. He had 
believed that what he had to say was the most im- 


BAMBI 


177 


portant thing, that this errand Bambi had sent him 
on was a stupid interruption. But all at once he saw 
it straight. This was his fight, here and now. He 
would not go back to her until he had won. He 
must find the way to finance himself in the meantime. 
No more provisions from the Professor or his daugh- 
ter. As he made his way downtown he thought over 
all the possibilities of making enough to live on. He 
had never bothered his head about it before. Like 
the sparrow, he had been provided for. But some- 
thing of his arrogant demanding of life seemed to 
have fled, a sort of terror had been planted in him by 
that view of the park-bench sleepers. 

How he wished Bambi were here to advise him, to 
laugh at him, or with him ! The thought of her was 
constantly creeping into his mind, to be shoved out 
by a determined effort of his will. He told himself 
he was becoming as boneless as the Professor, who 
relied on her for everything. That night he wrote to 
her: 

“I seem to have come to my senses to-day for the 
first time. Queer how a man can go on walking, 
talking, and thinking in his sleep. I don’t know why 
I should have wakened up to-day, but a walk I took 
last night at midnight stirred something in me. And 


178 


BAMBI 


a futile attempt to see Miss Harper to-day did the 
rest. You saw clearly, as you so often do. This is 
my fight, right here and now. I must make some- 
body believe in this play and produce it. It may 
take a long time — months, perhaps — but I must stay 
and face it out. 

‘T wanted you sorely to-night. Miss Mite, to talk 
it over with me. I am always coming upon things I 
want to talk over with you, these days. You have 
such a decided way of seeing things. 

‘T shall not be needing any more money, because 
I am about to make something, on the side, for my- 
self. Keep the Black Maria, and when the play goes 
we will have a mighty reckoning. I am not going to 
say thanks for what you and the Professor have done 
for me. I am going to act thanks. 

‘T shall read the scenario of the third act to Miss 
Harper to-morrow, the gods and the lady permitting. 
This is the third third act. I trust it will be ‘three 
and out,’ or, rather, three and on. My regards to 
the Professor and you. It is very hot here, and I 
relax by thinking myself in the arithmetical garden. 
It seems years ago since I was there. Has the Pro- 
fessor laid out any new figures? I think the ‘X’ bed 
ought to be wild orchids. He will understand.” 


He took the letter out to mail, and went for another 
walk. The night crowds began to interest him. 
He planned to take a different walk every night, and 
learn something of this city which he was setting out 
to conquer. 


BAMBI 


179 


The next morning he went from one newspaper 
office to another trying to get a job. His lack of 
experience handicapped him everywhere. Cub re- 
porters were as thick as summer flies. He walked, to 
save carfare. 

At three he gained admittance to Miss Harper and 
read her the new scenario. She decided that she 
liked the second one better. He arranged to go to 
work on it at once, so that she might have Mr. Parke 
read it before she sailed. The siren Hope sang a 
happy song to Jarvis as he swung down the drive. 
He had the golden apple in his grasp this time. 

“I’m coming, oh, you people,” he apostrophized 
them with his old assurance. “You’ll hear from me 
soon!” 

He celebrated his coming fortune with a fifty-cent 
table d’h6te, to which he did full justice. Up in the 
hot hall bedroom he took stock of ammunition. If 
he went light on food, he could afford to keep right 
at the play until he finished it. He estimated just 
what amount he could spend a day, and divided up his 
cash into the daily portion, each in an envelope. He 
purchased an alcohol stove and a coffee-pot, and set 
to work. 

There were only twelve days in which to do or die. 


180 


BAMBI 


and he went at it in a frenzy. Day faded into night, 
night faded into day, marked only by the thumping 
of the outraged chambermaid, at whom he thundered. 
When he remembered, he dashed out for food, but for 
the most part he drank coffee, and more coffee. 

Once he went for a long walk. He could never 
remember, afterward, whether it was day or night. 
But during it he thought out a new scene, and ran 
miles to get back and get it down. He grew thinner 
and more hollow-eyed each day, but he cared for 
nothing but accomplishing this thing. He knew thts 
act was good. He felt sure Miss Harper would 
like it. 

At dawn of the day he was to finish it he rushed 
into a dairy lunch to get a sandwich and a glass of 
milk. While he waited for the heavy-eyed clerk to 
get it, he picked up a morning paper. The date 
caught his eye. This was his last day of grace, sure 
enough. He must call up and get an appointment 
for the afternoon, for Miss Harper would be sailing 
to-morrow. Idly his eye travelled across the page, 
and suddenly was riveted by a headline: ‘‘Bertram 
Parke and his wife, Helen Harper, sail on the Maure- 
tania to-day. They will hasten to London, to sign a 
contract for a play for Miss Harper by Galsworthv. 


BAMBI 181 

which will be produced in New York immediately 
on her return.” 

The print blurred before Jarvis’s eyes. Everything 
swayed and swam. Out of the chaos came the voice 
of the tired clerk, shouting: “Say, you, what’s the 
matter with you.^ Can’t you take your sandwich.? 
Think I’m going to hold it all day ? ” 

Jarvis didn’t understand him. He didn’t even 
hear him. He just laid down his last quarter and 
went out, a bit unsteadily. 

“Soused!” grinned the clerk, looking after him. 


XV 


B AMBI sat, chin on hand, staring off into the 
distance so long that the Professor’s atten- 
tion was finally attracted to her. She held 
Jarvis’s letter in her hand — his call-to-arms letter. 
“No bad news, I hope.^^ ” ventured her father. 

“Oh, no; good news. The best. Jarvis is 
alive!” 

“ Why, you didn’t think he was dead? ” 

“Yes, in a sense he was dead.” 

“Strange I never noticed it.” 

“I mean that he was only fully alive to himself. 
He was dead to other people. He has been dan- 
gerously self-centred.” 

“And now ” 

“Now many hands are knocking at his postern 
gate!” 

“What enigmatic things you do say, my child! ” 
“Don’t you understand? Jarvis has built a high * 
wall about himself, his precious self. He was a sort 
of superman, called to sit in a high tower and dream, 
182 


BAMBI 183 

to think, to formulate a message to the world. No 
claims of earth were allowed to enter in.” 

“But you climbed over the wall.^ You were a 
claim of earth?” 

“You know how I sneaked in when he wasn’t 
looking.” 

“If you could read me the letter, Bambina, or such 
portions of it as are not private, I might understand 
better what you are trying to say.” 

“I’ll read it to you. It’s none of it private. He 
has nothing private to say to me.” 

The Professor composed himself to listen, while 
she read Jarvis’s long screed aloud. At the end he, 
too, sat thoughtfully a few moments, his finger tips 
neatly matched in church steeples before him. 

“I’m sometimes amazed at your judgment,” he 
said. 

“ Why my judgment? ” 

“I never would have seen any possibilities, myself, 
in the Jarvis whom you married.” 

“Speaking of cryptic remarks ” 

“I was trying to convey to your mind my belief 
that he may turn out a real man.” 

“Oh, Jarvis was a good investment. I knew it at 
the time. Poor old thing, he’s frightfully lonesome.” 


184 


BAMBI 


“He ought to come home for a while, on a visit. 
I am saving several topics for disagreement.” 

“No, it’s better for him to stick it out. No human 
being ever treated Jarvis like this Miss Harper is 
treating him, and it’s fine for him.” 

“Aren’t you rather Spartan, my dear?” 

“I am. I have felt all along that I had pushed 
him overboard before I was sure he could swim. Now 
I know he can.” 

“You may tell him for me that our agreement 
was for two years, and it holds good.” 

“I don’t know what your agreement was, Herr 
Professor, but if it had money in it, cancel it. I want 
him to learn that lesson, too.” 

, “Poor old Jarvis! ” 

“Don’t you poor old Jarvis me. Remember the 
abuse you heaped on him when I married him. I 
want him to be practical ! ” 

The Professor rose and started for the garden. 

“It’s your own affair, my dear.” 

The outcome of Bambi’s thoughts was a letter to 
Mr. Strong. She invited him to spend the week-end 
with her father and herself, to talk over the book and 
other things. She added that she hoped that he 
would prepare himself with data about the thirteen 


BAMBI 


185 


sisters, because her father would be primed with 
questions about them. Mr. Strong’s acceptance came 
by return mail, and he, himself, followed Saturday 
morning. 

Bambi met him, as on the other occasion, and at 
sight of his cordial smile she suddenly felt as if he were 
an old friend. 

“I am so glad to see you!” she exclaimed in her 
impulsive way. 

Mr. Strong shook her hand vigorously. 

“It’s mutual, I may say,” and he fell into step. 
“Bless this old town, it’s like ” 

“A soporific,” she supplied, and joined his laugh. 

“How’s the Professor? And my old friend Jarvis? 

“The Professor is in a quiver of expectation to talk 
sisters with you.” 

“Good! I am ready for him. And Jarvis?” 

“Jarvis was the ‘other things’ I asked you here to 
talk about.” 

“I see.” 

“He’s in New York.” 

“He is? Why didn’t he look me up?” 

“He doesn’t like you.” 

“ He took us seriously the other day ? ” 

“Hedid.” 


186 


BAMBI 


“Jealous, is he? That isn’t why he is in New 
York?” 

“ Oh, no ! He went to sell a play.” 

“Belasco refused it? ” 

“Yes, and two others. The Parkes have it now. 
They are going to take it.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Jarvis may have to stay in the city for some time. 
He doesn’t know any one. He hates cities. I sus- 
pect he is economizing too much to be comfortable. 
I thought maybe you would look him up — keep an 
eye on him.” 

“I should be delighted to, if you think he doesn’t 
dislike me too much.” 

“ Oh, no, he was annoyed that day we flirted so out- 
rageously, but I know he would be glad to see you.” 

“I had a wonderful time that day, myself.” 

“It was fun. Everybody was so at cross pur- 
poses.” 

“Do I continue the role of old beau? ” 

“ Oh, no. You’ve established yourself with father, 
so there’s no use in playing up.” 

“Old beau exit with regret,” he sighed. 

“You’re a nice man, and I’m glad of you.” 

“Thanks. Give me Jocelyn’s address before you 


BAMBI 


187 


forget it. Ah, there’s the Professor now,” he added> 
as he pocketed the card and hastened into the garden. 

The rest of the two days they spent in easy com- 
panionship. They played tennis, they drove through 
the woods in an old surrey, Bambi as whip. Then, 
when the Professor’s early bedtime removed him 
to the second story, they sat on the moonlit piazza 
and talked. 

The novel had grown into ten chapters. Three 
instalments had been published, and the public was 
showing a most flattering interest in it. Strong 
brought a box of letters for her to read from enthu- 
siastic readers. 

“It’s extraordinary how real you make your char- 
acters when you are such a novice,” he said to her. 

“I tell you I am a photographer. The musician 
in my story is Jarvis, with a thin disguise. The old 
fiddler is my father, and the girl is shamelessly 
‘me.’ ” 

“Delightfully you,” he corrected her. “Has the 
Professor or your husband read any of your stories.^ ” 

“No. They never read magazines. Jarvis saw the 
announcement of the prize story, and commented on 
the use of my name, but I threw him off the scent 
easily.” 


188 


BAMBI 


“I don’t see why you don’t ‘fess’ up, now that the 
thing is an established success.” 

“No, not yet. It’s such a lovely secret. I want 
to wait for just the moment to spring it on them.” 

“Couldn’t you invite me in when that moment 
comes 

“We’ll see. I may invite the neighbours in, and 
crown myself with a laurel wreath.” 

“I’d rely on your doing it in a novel way.” 

“The surest way of being considered eccentric is 
j ust to be yourself. So few of us have the nerve.” 

They talked late. He told her his plans and hopes 
for the magazine. He spoke of his people, of his past 
life, of his preparation for his work, and when the 
clock finally interrupted with twelve strokes, they 
arose, nearer friends than ever. 

After Strong’s departure Bambi wrote Jarvis to 
prepare him for the friendly visit : 

“You’ll remember Richard Strong, the brother of 
Maryland and the thirteen sisters.^ He came to 
spend the week-end with us, and expressed such dis- 
appointment at your absence that I gave him your 
address so he could look you up. Do be nice to him. 
I am sure you will like him when you get to know 
him. He is a fine, sensible fellow. He might find 
something for you to do on a magazine, if you wanted 


BAMBI 


189 


it. I did not speak to him about it, thinking you 
could do it best yourself, if you chose to. We had a 
pleasant two days’ visit — much talk, tennis, drives, 
and more talk. It seemed to please and rest him, 
and we enjoyed him greatly. The Professor has 
taken a great liking to him. 

“By the time this reaches you, you will have read 
the new third act to your leading lady. I feel so 
confident that she is going to like it. Wire me when 
she accepts. I can’t wait for a letter. Good luck 
and congratulations, from both of us. 

“Bambi.” 

“P. S. Will you come home after the contract is 
signed 


She tripped down to the corner in the moonlight 
to mail the letter, congratulating herself that she had 
handled the report of Mr. Strong’s visit with great 
tact. She recalled Jarvis’s unexpected jealousy with 
a smile. Where was he at this moment? Tossing 
in a hot bedroom, or prowling the streets, as he 
seemed prone to do these nights? 

She pondered the processes which made success so • 
easy for some people — hers, for instance, a happy 
accident — while others, Jarvis-like, had to be tied 
to the wheel before the fickle goddess released them 
and crowned them. Was it all chance? Or was 
there some big plan back of it all? Was she spared 


190 


BAMBI 


this incarnation that she might strive harder in the 
next? Was Jarvis expiating for past immunity? It 
was all a tangle, surely, to our mortal eyes. 

She gave it up, snapped off her light, and went to 
bed. A shaft of silver, like a prayer rug, lay across 
the floor. 

“Lady Moon, shine softly on my Knight of the 
Broken Lance,” she whispered, as she closed her eyes. 


XVI 


HERE was a faint idea in Jarvis’s mind, as 



he staggered out of the all-night lunch, of 


swimming after the Mauretania to overtake 
the Parkes. Then his wandering senses collected 
themselves. He realized that the vessel did not sail 
until eleven, or thereabouts; that there were still sev- 
eral hours before that. 

He hurried back to his room, dressed carefully, 
took the manuscript, and started out. It never 
occurred to him to telephone. Arrived at the house, 
the butler informed him that the Parkes had left in 
the motor at 8:30. No word had been left for Mr. 
Jocelyn. 

Jarvis’s jaw was set as he started downtown. He 
went to the wharf where the steamer lay, but there 
was only fifteen minutes left before her sailing. It 
was impossible to find out anything from anybody. 
So, with a sardonic calm, he watched the steamer 
slowly loosing from the wharf and making her stately 
exit. 


191 


192 


BAMBI 


On the way uptown he made up his mind as to the 
next move. He would begin action to-day on the 
Charles Frohman forces. He must also try to find 
a j ob . His resources were about exhausted . 

At the Empire Theatre, where the king of managers 
rules, there was actually an elevator to carry one up 
to the throne room and its ante-chambers. At a 
window, in a sort of cashier’s booth, a boy received 
Jarvis’s manuscript, numbered and entered it on the 
file. 

“ How soon will it be read.?^ ” Jarvis asked. 

“ Oh, six weeks or so,” said the youth. 

“No possible chance of seeing Mr. Frohman? ” 

“ Only by appointment. He is in Europe now.” 

Jarvis relinquished his precious bundle and de- 
parted. It occurred to him, when he reached the 
street, that part of his depression was from hunger. 
He bought a sandwich and coffee at a Childs res- 
taurant. Later, he went into a drug store and looked 
up magazine offices in the telephone book. Then he 
set out. From Collier^ s to the Cosmopolitan is many 
a weary mile. And Jarvis walked it, visiting all the 
intervening offices. 

In only one case did he get to the editor. Mr. 
Davis, of Munsey^ s, let him come in, and was decent 


BAMBI 


193 


to him, promised to read anything he sent in at once, 
took his address, and made him feel like a human 
being. Many a young writer besides Jarvis has to 
thank Mr. Bob Davis for just such a bit of encourage- 
ment. For the most part, he saw clerks or secre- 
taries who made excuses for the editor, took his name 
and address with the same old ‘‘Come in again.” 
Out in the hot sun the pavement wavered and melted 
into hillocks before his dizzy eyes. So he went back 
to the hot bedroom, which seemed, all at once, a 
haven of rest. 

He threw himself on the hard bed and was asleep 
in a second. It seemed aeons later that he was 
dragged up from the depths of slumber by continued 
pounding on his door. The slattern chambermaid 
announced that a gentleman wished to see him. He 
called to her it must be a mistake. He didn’t know 
any gentlemen. 

“’E h’ast for Jarvis Jocelyn. ’Ere’s ’is card,” 
she retorted, opening the door and marching to the 
bed with it. 

“Richard Strong. Tell him I’m out.” 

“Hi’ve already said you was in. Hi see you come 
hup.” 

“ The devil ! Where is he? ” 


194 


BAMBI 


“Coolin’ ’is ’eels in the ’all.” 

“ Say I’ll be down in a minute. Ask him to wait.” 

“Hi get you,” said she, and clomped out. 

Then Jarvis’s eye fell on Bambi’s letter on his 
table, unopened. It must have come the day before, 
when he was lost in his play. He glanced through it. 
At the mention of Strong’s visit he frowned. He 
read that part twice. There was no doubt of it. 
Strong had the only chance with her. He made no 
secret of his devotion to her, and the probabilities 
were that now that he, Jarvis, was out of the way, 
she would realize how much she cared for Strong. 

“Well, what is, is,” he muttered. He’d have no 
favours from Strong, though, that was sure. 

Twenty minutes later, shaved and dressed, he 
descended upon his guest, who sat in torment, on a 
hall-tree shelf, in Stygian darkness. 

“How do you do?” said Jarvis, stiffly. “Sorry 
to keep you waiting in this hole of Calcutta.” 

“How are you, Jocelyn?” said Strong, cordially. 
“Your wife gave me your address, and I thought you 
might save me from a deadly evening by dining with 
me at Claremont.” 

“Thank you, I have dined,” replied Jarvis. 

“So early? Well, come with me while I get a bite 


BAMBI 195 

somewhere, and we will go to a show, or hear some 
music.” 

“Much obliged. I am engaged for the evening.” 

“Oh, that’s a pity. Your wife told me you were a 
friendless stranger in a foreign land, so I lost no time 
in coming to look you up.” 

“Very kind of you.” 

“ I had a charming week-end in the country. We 
missed you very much.” 

“Indeed.?” 

“You’re a lucky chap, Jocelyn. Your wife is one 
of the most enchanting women I ever met. She is 
unique.” 

“lam glad she pleases you.” 

“My dear fellow, I hope I haven’t annoyed you. 
I meant no disrespect in complimenting you on Mrs. 
Jocelyn’s charm.” 

“You made your admiration a trifle conspicuous 
the last time I saw you,” said Jarvis in a rage. 

“I apologize, I assure you. I bid you good 
night.” 

“Unmannerly boor,” was Strong’s comment as he 
turned toward the avenue. 

“Hope that settles Mr. Richard Strong,” fumed 
Jarvis as he turned away from the avenue. 


196 


BAMBI 


Two letters were written Bambi that night con- 
cerning this meeting. Mr. Strong wrote : 

“Dear Lady: I cannot possibly tell you how 
much of the fragrance of the garden, and of you, 
stays with me even in the heat and ugliness of New 
York. I am so grateful to you and the Professor for 
your hospitality and your friendship. 

“I went to see your Jarvis to-night, as I promised 
to do, but he made it exceedingly plain to me that he 
desired neither my visit nor my acquaintance. I 
thought he looked very tired and a trifle hectic. No 
doubt the heat has worn on him. I don’t mean to 
alarm you. I am only searching for some excuse for 
my own comfort for his reception of me. 

“I shall look for the next chapters with eagerness. 
None of your many readers knows my proprietary 
delight in that tale of yours. 

“My cordial regards to your father, and to your- 
self my thanks and my best wishes. Faithfully, 

“Richard Strong.” 

Jarvis was not so politic. He permitted himself 
some rancor. 

‘^Dear Bambina: I did not get your letter an- 
nouncing Strong’s visit, and his approaching descent 
upon me, until this evening. He followed close upon 
its heels. I have no doubt you intended it kindly 
sending him here to look me up, but the truth is I am 
in no mood for callers, and I fear I made that rather 
plain to your friend. I may as well say, frankly, I 


BAMBI 


197 


disliked him exceedingly on the occasion of his visit 
to you. It would be useless for me to try to disguise 
the fact. I would never dream of asking him for work 
on his magazine, which I consider of a very low grade. 

“By some misunderstanding the Parkes sailed 
sooner than they expected, and failed to see my play. 
I have offered it to Charles Frohman. I should 
prefer him to any other New York manager. 

“The weather here is extremely hot, and I have 
been working rather hard, so I am a little knocked 
out. Will you send me the manuscript of my two 
unfinished plays you will find on the table in my 
study With regards to the Professor and yourself. 
Hastily, 

“ Jarvis.” 

Having got this off his mind and into the mail-box, 
Jarvis went for his nightly prowl. His steps turned 
toward the crowded East Side district, where a new 
interest was beginning to attract him. Until now 
“men” were his only concern. These hot nights, as 
he tramped along, discouraged with his own futility, 
he was beginning to discover “Man.” 

It seemed to him that all the children in the world 
were playing in these crowded streets. He had never 
turned his attention to children before. And he 
began to look at the shrewd, old faces, even to talk to 
a group here and there. They made him think of 
monkeys, clever, nervous little beasts. 


198 


BAMBI 


He skirted several mothers’ meetings conducted 
on the sidewalk. He even went into a saloon to have 
a look at the men, but the odour of stale beer and hot 
bodies was insufferable and drove him out. As he 
sauntered along, he passed an unlighted business 
building. Out of the shadow a girl stole, and fell in 
step beside him. 

“Hello, kid!” she began, her hand tucked under 
his arm. Before she could complete her sentence, a 
policeman was upon them. He laid hold of the girl 
roughly. 

“Now I got you! I told you to keep off’n this 
block,” he growled. 

“What’s the matter with you.^ What do you 
want.^” Jarvis demanded. 

“I want her to come along with me. That’s what 
I want.” 

“She hasn’t done anything.” 

“You bet she hasn’t. I didn’t give her time.” 

“Let go of her! What charge are you taking her 
on.^” 

“Don’t get fresh, young guy. The charge is 
s’licitin’.” 

“That’s a lie! She’s a friend of mine, and she 
merely said, ‘ Good evening.’ ” 


BAMBI 


199 


The copper laughed derisively, and the girl turned 
a cynical young-old face to Jarvis. 

“Much obliged, kid, but it ain’t no use. He’s got 
me spotted.” 

“ If you arrest her, you must arrest me.” 

“ I got nottin’ on you.” 

“Yes, you have. I said ‘Good evening’ to her, 
just what she said to me.” 

“ Get the hell out of here, and don’t give me none of 
your lip, or I’ll run you in. Come along ! ” the police- 
man ordered, and he and the girl started on toward 
Jefferson Market. Jarvis marched beside them. 
When they turned in at the door where prisoners are 
entered, the policeman again ordered Jarvis off. 

“ Go round in front if you’re crazy to be in on this,” 
he said. 

Jarvis hurried round to the front door and went in. 
The courtroom was packed. He had trouble in find- 
ing a seat, but he finally got into the front row, just 
behind the rail that divides the dock from the spec- 
tators. One half of the room was full of swine — fat, 
blowse-necked Jewish men, lawyers, cadets, owners 
of houses — all the low breeds who fatten off the 
degradation of women. Their business was to pay 
the fines or go bail. 


200 BAMBI 

The other half of the room, to Jarvis’s horror, was 
full of young boys andgii>ls, some almost children, there 
out of curiosity. A goodly number of street walkers 
sat at the back. It was their habit to come into court 
to see what judge was sitting. If it was one who levied 
strict fines, or was prone to send girls up to Bedford, 
they spent the evening there, instead of on the streets. 

The first case called, after Jarvis’s entrance, was that 
of the keeper of a disorderly house. She was horrible. 
He felt she ought to be branded in some way, so 
that she and her vile trade would be known where- 
ever she went. A man went her bail, and she 
flounced out in a cloud of patchouli. 

Two coloured girls were brought in, and sent up 
for thirty days. Then several old women, the kind 
of human travesties Jarvis had seen sleeping on the 
benches, were marched before the judge, who called 
them all by name. 

“ Well, Annie,” he said to one of them, “ you haven’t 
been here for some weeks. How did it happen this 
time?” 

“ I’ve been a- walkin’ all day, your honour. I guess 
I fell asleep in the doorway.” 

“You’ve been pretty good lately. I’ll let you off 
easy. Fine, one dollar.” 


BAMBI 201 

“Oh, thanks, your honour.” She was led off, and 
Jarvis sickened at the sight. 

A series of young girls followed, cheaply modish, 
with their willow plumes and their vanity bags. 
Some cheerful, some cynical, some defiant. One slip 
of a thing heard her sentence, looked up in the judge’s 
face, and laughed. Jarvis knew that never, while he 
lived, would he forget that girl’s laugh. It was into 
the face of our whole hideous Society that she hurled 
that bitter laugh. 

Then his girl was brought in. He saw her clearly 
for the first time. A thin, wizened little face, framed 
in curly red hair, with bright, birdlike eyes. Her thin, 
flat child’s figure was outlined in a tight, black satin 
dress, with a red collar and sash. Her quick glance 
darted to him, and she smiled. The policeman made 
his charge. The judge glanced at her. 

“Anything to say for yourself.? ” 

She shook her head wearily. Jarvis was out of his 
seat before he thought. 

“I have something to say for her. I am the man 
she was supposed to have approached.” 

“Silence in the courtroom,” said the judge, sternly. 

“She didn’t say one word to me, except ‘Good 
evening,’ ” shouted Jarvis. 


202 


BAMEI 


“ Is that the man? ’’ the judge asked the o£Bcer. 

“Yes. He’s made a lot of trouble, too, trying to 
make me arrest him.” 

“If you have any evidence to give in this case, 
come to the front and be sworn in.” 

Jarvis jumped the railing and stood before him. 
The oath was administered. 

“Now, tell me, briefly, what the girl said to you.” 

“She said, ‘Hello, kid!’” 

A titter went over the courtroom. The clerk 
rapped for order. 

“Then what happened? ” 

“This officer arrested her. I told him what had 
passed between us, and insisted on being arrested, 
too. We said the same thing, the girl and I.” 

“ The girl has been here before. She has a record.” 

“Where are the men she made the record with?” 
demanded Jarvis. 

“We do not deal with that feature of it,” replied 
the judge, turning to the officer. 

“And why not?” demanded Jarvis. “It takes a 
solicitor and the solicited to make a crime. What 
kind of laws are these which hound women into the 
trade and hound them for following it? ” 

“It is neither the time nor the place to discuss that. 


BAMBI 203 

The case is dismissed. This court has no time to 
waste, Flynn, in cases where there’s no evidence,” he 
added, sternly, to the detective. 

The girl nodded to Jarvis and beckoned him, but 
instead of following her he went back to his seat. He 
would follow this ghastly puppet show to its end. 

At a word from the judge a tall, handsome, gray- 
haired woman approached the bench. She wore no 
hat, and Jarvis marked her broad brow and pleasant 
smile and the wise, philosophic eyes. Her face 
looked cheerful and normal in this place of abnor- 
malities. 

“ Who is that woman? ” Jarvis asked his neighbour. 

“Probation officer,” came the answer. 

Jarvis watched her with passionate interest. He 
noted her low- voiced answers to the judge’s questions 
about the girl in hand. The curiosity seekers in the 
audience could not hear, no matter how they craned 
their necks. He watched her calm smile as she 
turned to take the girl off into her own office. He 
made up his mind to talk with her before the night 
was over. 

Case followed case as the night wore on. It seemed 
to Jarvis that this bedraggled line had neither begin- 
ning nor end. He saw it winding through this place 


204 


BAMBI 


night after night, year after year, the old-timers and 
the new recruits. Uptown reputable citizens slept 
peacefully in their beds; this was no concern of theirs. 
He was no better than the rest, with his precious 
preaching about the brotherhood of man. What 
the body politic needed was a surgeon to cut away 
this abscess, eating its youth and strength. 

The screams of a girl who had just been given a 
sentence to Bedford startled him out of his thoughts. 
She pleaded and cried, she tried to throw herself at 
the judge’s feet, but the policeman dragged her out, 
the crowd craning forward with avid interest. She 
was the last case before the court adjourned. Jarvis 
leaned across the rail and asked the probation oflScer 
if he might speak to her. 

‘‘Perhaps you will walk along with me toward my 
home.f^” she suggested. He gladly assented. In a 
few moments she came out, hatted and ready for the 
street. She looked keenly at this tall, serious youth 
who had so unexpectedly arraigned the court. 

“My name is Jarvis Jocelyn,” he began. “There 
are so many things I want to ask you about.” 

“I shall be glad to tell you what I can,” she said 
quietly. 

“ Have you been in this work long.? ” 


BAMBI 


205 


“Eleven years.” 

“Good God! how can you be so calm.? How can 
you look so hopeful.? ” 

“Because I am hopeful. In all the thousands of 
cases I have known I have never once lost hope. 
When I do, my work is over.” 

“You’re wonderful!” he exclaimed. 

“No, I am reasonable. I don’t expect the im- 
possible. I am glad of every inch of ground gained. 
I don’t demand an acre. If one girl is rescued out of 
twenty ” 

“But why does it need to be at all.?” Jarvis inter- 
rupted her. 

“Why does disease need to be? Why does unhap- 
piness need to be, or war, or the money-lust that 
will one day wreck us? We only know that these 
things are. Our business is to set about doing what 
we can.” 

“One girl out of twenty,” he repeated. “What 
becomes of the other nineteen? ” 

“I said I was glad of one girl in twenty. Some- 
times several of the nineteen come out all right. 
Bedford helps a great many. They marry, they 
keep straight, or — they die very soon.” 

“ Tell me about Bedford. ” 


206 


BAMBI 


She outlined the work done in that farm home, 
which is such a credit to New York. She told him of 
the honour system, and all the modern methods em- 
ployed there. 

“ Can you get opportunities for girls who want the 
chance?” 

‘‘Plenty of them. I have only to ask. When I 
need money, it comes. Lots of my girls are employed 
in uptown shops, leading good, hard-working lives.” 

“ Where does this money come from? ” 

“Private donations. That is one of my hope 
signs — the widespread interest in rescue work.” 

“ The old ones — those aged women? ” 

She sighed. “Yes, I know, they are terrible! 
There is a mighty army of them in New York. We 
grind them in and out of om courts, month after 
month. The institutions are all full. There is so 
much grafting that the poor-farm has been delayed, 
year after year, so there is no place to send them.” 

“ Where do they go? ” 

“ Into East River, most of them, in the end.” 

“Do you mean to say that we pay the machinery 
of the law to put these cases through the courts, over 
and over again, and then provide no place to harbour 
the derelicts?” 


BAMBI 


207 


“That’s about the case,” she replied. 

“How can we live and endure such things?” Jarvis 
demanded passionately. 

“I used to feel that way about it. I used to be 
sick through and through with it, but I have grown 
to see that there is improvement, that there is a new 
social sense growing among us. Uptown women of 
leisure come to our night courts, take part in our 
working-girls’ strikes, and women, mind you, are 
always slowest to feel and react to new forces. Don’t 
be discouraged,” she smiled at him, stopping at the 
door. 

“May I come and see you, some time? Are you 
ever free, or would that be asking too much? ” 

“No. Come! Come in Sunday afternoon if you 
like.” 

She held out her hand, and he grasped it warmly. 

“You’re great,” he said boyishly, at which she 
laughed. 

“ We need you young enthusiasts,” she said. 

As he walked uptown to his lodgings Jarvis faced 
the fact that up to this present moment he had been 
on the wrong track. He had tried to pull from the 
top. That was all right, if only he also tried to push 
from the bottom. The world needed idealists, but 


208 


BAMBI 


not the old brand, blind to the actual, teaching out 
of a great ignorance. This probation officer woman, 
she was the modern idealist, as modern as Jesus 
Christ, who worked in the same spirit. 

He would finish his vision-plays, as he called them, 
because he believed in them. But, in the meantime, 
he would learn something of the real issues of men 
and women as they live in great cities, so that he 
could write a play which would be so true, so vital, 
that it would be like watching the beating of the hot 
heart of life. That night was the beginning of a new 
era for Jarvis. 


XVII 


B AMBINA PARKHURST was a young 
woman not much given to wrath, but as she 
read the two letters from New York she grew 
thoroughly enraged at Jarvis. Evidently, he had 
been exceedingly rude to Mr. Strong, and evidently 
Mr. Strong had been exceedingly annoyed. She was 
so furious at him that when she sat down to her desk 
to write her daily chapters no ideas came. Her mind 
just went over and over the situation of kind Mr. 
Strong putting himself out to be polite for her sake 
— Jarvis, stiff and ill-mannered, repulsing him. 
She determined to omit the daily letter to the offender 
until she cooled off. She gave up work for the morn- 
ing and descended upon Ardelia. 

‘‘Ardelia, I am so mad I can’t think of anything 
to do but put up fruit.” 

“Law, Miss Bambi, you ain’t mad wif me, is you.^” 
“ No. I’m mad with man.” 

“Man! Wat’s the Perfessor bin doin’ Has he 
don’ forgot somfin’ ?” 


209 


BAMBI 


no 

“ It isn’t the Professor. It’s the sex.” 

“ Well, don’ you go meddlin’ round wid fruit and 
gettin’ yo’ hands stained up, jus’ caus’ yo’s mad wid 
de sex.” 

“I have got to do something violent, Ardelia. I 
am going to jerk the stems off of berries, chop the 
pits out of cherries, and skin peaches.” 

‘‘Laws a-massy, you suttinly is fierce this mohnin’. 
All right, go ahead, but der ain’t no need of it. I 
mos’ generally always has put up the fruit for the 
fam’ly wifout no help.” 

“I know you don’t need me, Ardelia, but I need 
you.” 

“ Well, chile, heah’s de fust few bushels ob cherries.” 

“Bushels? Mercy on us! Are you going to do 
all those?” 

“Yassum. And den some more. Dat’s the Per- 
fessor’s favourite fruit.” 

Bambi was promptly enveloped in a huge apron 
and settled on the back piazza, surrounded with pans 
and baskets. Ardelia stood by, and handed her 
things, until she got started. 

“Hurry up, and come out, Ardelia. I want you to 
talk to me and take my mind off of things.” 

“I’ll be ’long, by and by.” 



A: 




HAVE GOT TO DO SOMETHING VIOLENT, ARDELIA. I AM GOING TO JERK THE STEMS 
OFF OF BERRIES, CHOP THE PITS OUT OF CHERRIES, AND SKIN PEACHES ’’ 








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BAMBI 


211 


Bambi held up a bright-red cherry , named it Jarvis, 
pulled out its stem, cut out its heart, and finally 
plumped it into her mouth and chewed it viciously. 
Then she felt better. There was a cool morning 
breeze lifting the leaves of the big elms, and nodding 
the hollyhocks’ heads. The sound of late summer 
buzzing and humming, and bird songs, made the back 
porch a pleasant, placid spot — no place in which to 
keep rage hot. 

Ardelia lumbered out, after a while, to sit near by, 
her slow movements and her beaming smile far from 
conducive to a state of excitement. 

“Mighty purty out here, ain’t it.^^” 

“Yes.” 

“I reckon Massa Jarvis be mighty glad to be home, 
a-sittin’ here a-seedin’ cherries ’longsideob you?” 

“ J arvis never did anything so useful. As for being 
alongside of me, that doesn’t interest him at all.” 

“Yo’re suttinly the onlovingest bride and groom 
I’ve eber seen. You ain’t neber lovin’ nor kissin’ nor 
nottin’, when I come aroun’.” 

“Mercy no, Ardelia ! ” 

“I ’low if I was married to such a han’som’ man, 
like Massa Jarvis, I’d be a lovin’ ob him all the time.” 

“Suppose he wouldn’t let you?” 


212 


BAMBI 


“Can’t tell me der’s a man libin’ who wouldn’t be 
crazy fur yo’ to lub him, Miss Bambi. Look at dat 
Mister Strong keeps a-comin’ here.” 

“ What about him.^ ” asked Bambi in surprise. 

“ I see him lookin’ at you. I see him.” 

“ Nonsense ! He has to look at me to talk with me.” 

“He don’ need to do no talkin’, wid his eyes 
a-workin’ like dat.” 

“ You old romancer ! ” 

“Look a-heah, chile, dose cherries fo’ to preserve. 
Dey ain’t fo’ eatin’. You’re eatin’ two and puttin’ 
one in de pan.” 

Bambi made a face at her. 

“ What is your opinion of men, Ardelia.^ ” 

“I tink dey’s all right in dey place.” 

“Where’s their place.^” 

“Out in the kennel wid the dawg!” said Ardelia, 
shaking with laughter. “All ’cepin’ the Perfessor 
and Massa Jarvis,” she added. 

“You think they are a lower order, do you.^” 

“Yassum. I sho’ do. Mos’ of dem just clut- 
terin’ up the earth.” 

“That’s the reason you don’t take that Johnson 
man on for good, is it.^ ” 

“Sho’! I ain’t a-goin’ to cook and wash fo’ no 


BAMBI 


213 


nigger dat ain’t got no appreciashun, when I can 
cook and wash fo’ the Perfessor dat know a lady 
when he sees her.” 

“But he so infrequently sees her,” giggled Bambi, 
sotto voce, 

“No, ma’am, I’s eatin’ my white bread right here, 
and I knows it. I ain’t goin’ to experimentify wid 
no marry in’, nor givin’ in marriage.” 

“In your case, I believe you’re right. In my own, 
however, I know that, mad as I am this morning, 
‘experimentifi cation’ is the breath of life to me.” 

They spent the morning in such, peaceful converse. 
While Bambi may not have added greatly to the 
cherry-pitting, she rose rested and with a collected 
mind. 

“ Ardelia, I thank you for a dose of calm,” she said, 
laying her hand affectionately on the black woman’s 
broad shoulder. 

“Law, honey, I done enjoyed your sassiety,” she 
said, laughing and patting her hand. 

Within the course of a few days Bambi had an 
appeal from Jarvis: 

“Are you ill.^ Is anything the matter? Are you 
merely tired of me that you do not write? Your 
letters are the only event of my days.” 


214 


BAIVIBI 


This gave her the chance she wanted. 

“You seem to be unaware, my dear Jarvis, that 
in offering a rude rebuff to Mr. Strong you offended 
me, since he is my good friend and came to see you 
at my request. I think you made as poor an im- 
pression on him as he did upon you, at the time of 
your meeting, and it was as a politeness to me that 
he came to look you up. I think an apology to both 
of us is rather necessary.” 

A week elapsed, with no reply. Then came a 
characteristic answer: 

“Dear Bambi: Please find enclosed copy of apol- 
ogy sent Strong to-day. I don’t like him, but I have 
apologized. I also apologize to you. Please don’t 
omit letters any more. They mean a great deal 
these days.” 

She pondered this for some time. That Jarvis 
was going through new and trying experiences she 
realized. But this human appeal for her letters was 
so unlike the old Jarvis that she had to read it many 
times to believe it was actually there. 

She wrote him at once, accepting his apology 
gracefully. 

“ Can’t you come out for a few days’ rest here, and 
go back in time tadiear Frohman’s verdict.^ We’d 


BAMBI 215 

love to have you, especially the Professor and 
Ardelia.” 

He answered that it was impossible to get away 
now. Later, possibly, he might come. He was 
grateful for the invitation. He never mentioned 
how he lived, and she did not ask him. The Pro- 
fessor’s check he returned, with a note of thanks, 
saying he did not need it. The summer went by 
and fall came to town. Still there was no word 
of his return. 

“My, this is a fat letter from Jarvis! Frohman 
must have accepted the play ! ” exclaimed Bambi one 
morning in September. She opened out the thick, 
folded paper. 

“It’s poetry,” she added. “ ‘Songs of the Street.’ 
If he’s gone back to poetry, I’m afraid he’s lost.” 

She began to glance through them. 

“My dear, I’ve asked you for coffee twice.” 

“These are powerful and ugly. Think of Jarvis 
seeing these things.” 

“Coffee,” reiterated the Professor. 

“Yes, yes. You must read these. They’re up- 
setting. I wonder what is happening to Jarvis. ” 

“Is he in trouble?” 


216 BAMBI 

‘‘No, he doesn’t say so. But there’s a new note 
in these.” 

“ Coffee,” repeated the Professor, patiently. 

“For goodness’ sake, father, stop shouting coffee. 
You are the epitome of the irritating this morning.” 

“I always am until I have my coffee.” 

All day long Bambi thought about Jarvis’s “Street 
Songs.” It was not the things themselves. They 
were crude enough, in spots, but it was the new sense 
in Jarvis that made him see and understand human 
suffering. She felt an irresistible impulse to take 
the next train and go to him. Would he be glad to 
see her? For the first time she wanted him, eagerly. 
But the impulse passed, and weeks stretched into 
months. She worked steadily at the book, which 
grew apace. She loved every word of it. Some- 
times she wondered what would become of her with- 
out that work, during this waiting time, while Jarvis 
was making his career. For, in her mind, she always 
thought of herself and her writing as a side issue of 
no moment. Jarvis’s work was the big, important 
thing in her life. 

He wrote freely about his work on the other plays, 
asking her judgment and advice, as he had on 
“Success.” She gave her best thought and closest 


BAINIBI 


217 


attention to the problems he put to her, and he 
showed the same respect for her decisions. 

The six weeks grew into two months, and no 
answer from the Frohman oiBBces. He wrote her that 
he went in there every other day, but could get no 
satisfaction. They always said his play was in the 
hands of the readers. It had to take its turn. 

He finished “The Vision” and offered it to Win- 
throp Ames, of the Little Theatre. “I am hopeful 
of this man. I have never seen him, but the theatre 
is well bred, and, to my surprise, a capable, intelli- 
gent secretary received me courteously in the office 
and promised a quick reading. This augurs well for 
the man at the head of it, I think.” 

In reply to her insistence that he must come for 
Thanksgiving, he told her that he had made a vow 
that he would never come back to her until he had 
absolutely succeeded or hopelessly failed. “If you 
knew how hard it is to keep that resolve you would 
be kind, and not ask me again,” he added. 

A little piqued, and yet proud, Bambi reported 
his decision to the Professor, and began to turn over 
in her busy mind a plan to carry the mountain to 
Mohammed, if Christmas found the wanderer still 
obdurate. 


XVIII 


J ARVIS certainly had matriculated in the 
school of experience, and he entered in the 
freshman class. He first wrote a series of 
articles dealing with the historical development of 
the drama. He took them to the Munsey offices and 
offered them to Mr. Davis. 

“Did you intend these for Munsey’ s Magazine?” 

“Yes. I thought possibly ” 

“Ever read a copy of the Magazine?” 

“No. I think not.” 

“Well, if you intend to make a business of selling 
stuff to magazines, young man, it would pay you to 
study the market. What you are trying to do is to 
unload coal on a sugar merchant. This stuff belongs 
in the Atlantic Monthly, or some literary magazine.” 
“Isn’t your magazine literary?” 

“Certainly not in that sense. We publish a 
dozen magazines and this kind of thing doesn’t fit 
any of them. We entertain the public — we rarely 
instruct them.” 


218 


BAMBI 


219 


“ I see. I’m obliged to you for your trouble. I’ll 
try the Atlantic.*’ 

“Bring in some stories, light, entertaining stuff 
with a snap, and we will take them.” 

“Thanks! ’Fraid that isn’t in my line.” 

Jarvis went over to the Public Library and delib- 
erately studied the style of stuff used by the various 
monthly publications, making notes. 

For the next few days he worked all day and a 
good part of the night on things he thought he could 
sell, according to these notes. Then he began a 
campaign to peddle them. The Atlantic refused his 
drama articles, and he tried them elsewhere, with no 
success. The other things were equally a drug on the 
market. He saved postage by taking them to the 
editors’ offices himself, and calling for them in ten 
days or so. He always found them ready for him. 
He took a cheaper room, and got down to one square 
meal a day. Finally, an opportunity came for him 
to review some books for a literary supplement of a 
newspaper. Confident that his luck had changed, 
he proceeded to demolish three out of the four books 
assigned to him in the most scathing reviews, where- 
upon the editor paid him half price and dismissed 
him. 


220 


BAMBI 


The week when things reached the lowest ebb he 
was summoned by a postal from an acquaintance, 
made during one of his night prowls, an old English 
cabman. When he arrived at the address indicated 
he found the old man sick in bed with rheumatism. 
He wanted Jarvis to drivfe his hansom for a week, on 
a percentage, until he could get about again. There 
was no choice. It was that or the park benches, so 
Jarvis accepted. Old Hicks fitted, or rather mis- 
fitted, him in a faded blue tailed coat and a topper. 
Jarvis looked like an Otto Cushing cartoon of Apollo 
in the attire, but he never once thought of that. He 
hitched up the bony old horse, mounted the box, 
with full instructions as to traffic rules, and headed 
for the avenue. He found the new trade amusing. 
He drove ladies on shopping tours, took nurses and 
their charges around the Park. He did not notice 
that his face and manners caused many a customer 
to stare in astonishment. When one woman said 
audibly to her companion, ‘‘Good heavens! what a 
handsome creature!” he never dreamed she referred 
to him. 

It was the fourth day of his employment as a 
cabby when a summons came from the Frohman 
offices bidding him appear at the theatre at eleven 


BAMBI 


221 


o’clock on the following day. It was embarrassing. 
Old Hicks was entirely dependent on what Jarvis 
brought in at night, and they could neither of them 
afford to have the cab idle a full day. So he decided 
to stop at the theatre in the morning, and then de- 
duct his time off duty. Promptly at eleven the cab 
arrived at the Empire Theatre and Jarvis descended 
from the box. He gave the boy a cent to hold his 
horse, although nothing except a bushel of oats could 
have urged the old bone-rack into motion. Up to 
the booth window he marched, and presented the 
letter. The boy inspected the old blue coat, the 
topper, and the worn gloves. 

‘‘Character costume,” he grinned: then he opened 
the letter, and his face changed. 

“Excuse me, sir. I’ll see if Mr. Frohman will see 
you.” 

He was out and back, almost at once, bowing and 
holding the door open. 

“Right ahead, into the private office,” he said, 
importantly. A clerk took charge of our hero at the 
far door, announcing formally, “Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn, 
Mr. Frohman.” 

Jarvis entered the big room and crossed eyes with 
the man at the far end. What Mr. Frohman saw was 


BAMBI 


222 

a tall, splendidly set-up youth, with a head held high, 
and a fearless, free carriage, attired in the very 
strange and battered habiliments of a cabby. What 
Jarvis saw was a fat little man, with a round face, 
sharp, twinkling eyes, and a genial mouth. The 
whole face had a humorous cast, a kindly expression. 

“You are Jarvis Jocelyn.^” said Mr. Frohman, as 
J arvis reached him . 

“lam.” 

“You wrote a play called ‘ Success ’ ? ” 

“I did.” 

“I’ve read your play.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Well, the play isn’t,” Frohman interrupted. 
“It is extremely bad, but there are some ideas in it, 
and one good part.” 

“ The woman, you mean.^^ ” 

“The woman nothing. She’s a wooden peg to 
hang your ideas on. I mean the man she married.” 

“But he is so unimportant,” Jarvis protested. 

“He was important enough to get this interview. 
I never would have bothered with you, or with your 
play, if it hadn’t been for that character. He’s new.” 

“You want me to make him a bigger part in the 
play?” 


BAMEI 223 

“My advice is to throw this play in the waste- 
basket and write one about that man.” 

“Will you produce it if I do?” 

“Probably not, but I’ll look it over. What else 
have you done? ” 

“I have finished two things. One I call ‘The 
Vision’ — this is a Brotherhood of Man play — the 
other I call ‘Peace,’ and it’s a dramatization of the 
Universal Peace idea.” 

“ Why don’t you write something human? Nobody 
wants dramatized movements. The public wants 
people, personalities, things we all know and feel. 
You can’t get much thrill out of Universal Peace.” 

“But I believe the public should be taught.” 

“Yes, I know. I get all of you ‘uplift boys’ 
sooner or later. Teach them all you like, but learn 
your trade so thoroughly that they will have no idea 
that they are being taught. That is the function 
of the artist-playwright. What do you do besides 
write plays?” 

“Just at present I drive a cab,” Jarvis answered 
simply. 

“ You don’t say? How does that happen? ” 

“I was up against it for money, and I took this to 
oblige a friend cabby who has rheumatism.” 


224 


BAMBI 


“ Ton my word ! How long have you been at it? ’’ 

“This is my fifth day/’ 

“Business good?” The manager’s eyes twinkled. 
Jarvis smiled gravely. 

“I have been wishing it would rain,” he confessed. 

“ When do you write? ” 

“At night, now. But this is only temporarily.” 

“What do you think of my idea of another play? ” 

“The idea is all right, if you will only take it when 
I’ve done it.” 

“ How long have you been at this play writing? ” 

“ Three years.” 

“How long do you suppose it took me to learn to be 
a manager?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“ Well, nearer three times ten than three years, and 
I am still learning. You writing fellows never want 
to learn your trade like other people. You talk 
about inspiration and uplifting the public, and all 
that, and you want to do it in six months. You go 
to work on this new idea, and come back here when 
you’ve finished it. Then it will be time enough to 
talk about my end of it.” 

Jarvis rose. 

“ I am obliged to you, sir. I shall do it.” 



HE TAUGHT HIMSELF TO ABANDON HIS OLD INTROSPECTIVE HABITS 
DURING THESE DAYS ON THE BOX 



BAMBI 225 

Mr. Frohman held out his hand. ‘‘Good luck to 
you. I shall hope for rain.” 

“Thanks! Good morning, sir.” 

With the perfect ease of a lack of self-consciousness 
Jarvis made his exit, leaving Mr. Frohman with a 
twinkle in his eyes. 

The rest of the day a certain blond cabman on the 
avenue drove to Franklin Simon’s when he was or- 
dered to Altman’s, drew up in state at McCreery’s 
when he was told Bonwit Teller’s. 

“You must be drunk, driver,” said one passenger. 
She held up her dollar bill, indignantly, to dismiss 
him. He lifted his hat, perfunctorily, and swept a 
bow. 

“I am, madam, intoxicated with my own 
thoughts.” He rattled off down the street, leaving 
the woman rooted to the curb with astonishment. 

He taught himself to abandon his old, introspec- 
tive habits during these days on the box, and forced 
his attention to fix itself upon the crowds, his cus- 
tomers, the whole uptown panorama, so different 
from the night crowds he sought. He recalled Bam- 
bi’s saying to him that until he learned not to ex- 
clude any of the picture he would never do big work. 
Her words had a tantalizing way of coming back t«^ 


226 


BAMBI 


him, things she had tossed off in the long ago of their 
visit to New York together. He longed for her 
vivid phrasing, her quick dart at the heart of the 
things they talked of. It seemed incredible now that 
he had ever taken her as a matter of course. As 
for the enigma of her marrying him, he never ceased 
to ponder it. 

True to his promise, he went to call on the “Pro- 
bation Lady,” as he named her, and they became 
friends. He admired her enormously, and owed 
much to her wise philosophy. He asked her to go 
riding in his cab, and she accepted without hesita- 
tion. They rode from five to seven, one afternoon, 
conversing through the shutter in the top of the cab, 
laughing and enjoying themselves hugely, to the 
great amusement of pedestrians along the way. 

At the end of two weeks he and Hicks divided the 
spoils, and Hicks resumed the box. It cemented a 
friendship which Jarvis enjoyed greatly, for the old 
Englishman was ripe with humour and experience. 
He, too, taught the teacher. 

The day after he was free from cab duty Jarvis 
went to the Little Theatre to get a report from “The 
Vision.” The secretary said Mr. Ames had asked to 
see him when he came in. He found him a lean 


BAMBI 227 

student type of man, finished in manner, and pleas- 
ant of speech. 

“I have been interested in this play of yours, Mr. 
Jocelyn. I couldn’t do it, in my theatre, but I 
thought I would like to have a talk with you and ask 
you what else you’ve done.” 

“A woman-question play, called ‘Success,’ this one, 
and one on Universal Peace.” 

“All serious.?” 

“ Certainly. Why do managers always ask that.? ” 

“Because serious plays are so many, I suppose. 
Good comedies are so few.” 

“I thought you always gave serious things in the 
Little Theatre?” 

“I am forced to, but I am always looking for good 
comedy. I would like to see your other plays.” 

They sat, discussing things of the theatre, tenden- 
cies in drama, fashions and fads, Gordon Craig’s book, 
the Rheinhardt idea. They spent a pleasant half 
hour, like an oasis in Jarvis’s desert. He felt that Mr. 
Ames had time for him, was sincere in his interest 
in him. He left the Little Theatre cheered in some 
inexplicable way. 

When he returned to his lodgings that day he 
found a note from Strong, forwarded from the old 


228 


BAMBI 


address. It acknowledged Jarvis’s apology grace- 
fully, and suggested that they dine together the night 
of this very day, unless Jarvis was again engaged, 
in which case he might telephone, and they would 
make other plans. Jarvis frowned over it ten min- 
utes. 

“Might as well go and get it over,” he remarked 
ungraciously. He telephoned Strong his acceptance, 
and asked if he might meet him at the restaurant. 
He did not wish Strong to know the new address. 
He would keep his struggle and his poverty to him- 
self. That was certain. 

The two men met at a roof garden, each de- 
termined to suppress his instinctive dislike of the 
other because of Bambi. They found a table, and 
after a short period of stiffness they fell into easy 
talk of books and plays and men. 

“How do you like New York? I remember you 
confessed to hating cities when I saw you.” 

“I still hate cities, but I am getting a new point 
of view about it all.” 

“It’s a great school.” 

“So it is.” 

“Is Mrs. Jocelyn well, and the Professor?” 

“Yes, thank you.” 


BAMBI 


229 


“It is some time since you were home? ” 

“Yes/’ 

“I had a note from Mrs. Jocelyn a few days ago.” 
“Did you?” 

“I wonder if you would let me see your ‘Songs of 
the Street/ she told me about?” 

“ She spoke of them to you? ” 

“In the highest terms. Said she had no idea of 
your plans in regard to them, but that the poems were 
rong and true/’ 

“ I am glad she liked them.” 

“Would you consider letting me have them for the 
lagazine if they seemed to fit our needs? ” 

“ You can look them over, if you like. They won’t 
t, though. They’ll stick out like a sore thumb, 
he only editor I showed them to said they weren’t 
rose, and they weren’t poetry, and, besides, he didn’t 
? ke them.” 

“Mail them to me to-night when you go home. 
Better still, bring them in.” 

Jarvis drew out an envelope that he pushed across 
the table to Strong. 

“Look them over now,” he said. 

Strong lifted his brows slightly, but took the prof- 
fered pages and began to read. While his host was 


230 BAMBI 

so busied, Jarvis smoked a good cigar, the first in 
months, and enjoyed it. He didn’t care whether 
Strong likedvthem or not. Strong looked up sud- 
denly. 

“I’ll take these, Jocelyn. What do you want for 
them?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know. What are they worth to you ? ” 

“I’ll pay two hundred dollars for them. Is that 
satisfactory? ” 

“Perfectly.” 

“I’ll mail you a check in the morning. I should 
say you have been learning things, Jocelyn. That 
is good stuff.” 

“ I told you I was getting a new point of view.” 

At the close of the evening the two men parted 
with a surreptitious feeling that they would have 
liked each other under any other circumstances. 
They promised to meet soon again. As for Jarvis, 
he felt that a golden egg had been laid for him in the 
middle of the table on the Astor roof! The one 
thing that stood out in his mind was the thought that 
he could go home — home, to see Bambi. The only 
regret was that Strong had made it possible. 


XIX 


T he day came, in early December, when Bambi 
put the last word, the last period, to her 
book. Instead of a moment of high relief 
and of pride, as she had foreseen it, it was with a sigh 
of regret that she laid down her pen. She felt as a 
mother might feel who sends her child out to make 
its own way when she had put her last, finishing 
mother-touch upon his training. There would never 
be another first book. No matter how crude or how 
young this firstling might come to seem to her, there 
would never be such another. No such thrills, no 
such building as made this first-born dear, could go in 
another book. Then there was the pleasure in her 
new bank account, with the sense of freedom it 
brought. She could indulge herseK in pretty things. 
She could buy little presents for people she loved. 
Best of all, she laid aside an amount which she called 
the “Homeseeker’s Fund,” to be used for that home 
which she and Jarvis would establish some day. She 
had won her independence, and it was sweet. 

231 


232 


BAMBI 


Mr. Strong was attending to the publication of the 
story in book form. And it was to be on the Christ- 
mas stalls, appearing simultaneously with the last 
chapters of the magazine. He was already begging 
her to promise a new serial for the coming year. 

It seemed incredible that so much could have 
happened to her in the ten months that she had been 
married to Jarvis. Her threatened career, which 
seemed such a joke to her family, was here; she was 
well launched upon it, with the two scoffers still in 
ignorance of the fact. So she mused, as she sat at 
her desk, the heap of completed last chapters piled 
before her. Ardelia broke in upon her meditations. 

“Mr. Strong in here!” 

“Who.?” 

“Mr. Strong!” 

“ Mr. Strong ! Why, he sent me no word. I didn’t 
expect him!” 

“ I can’t help that. He’s here, settin’ in the liberry.” 

“ Dear me ! ” said Bambi. “ Say I’ll be down at once. 
Wait ! Help metoget into my gray gown before you go.” 

“You look all right de way you is.” 

“No, no. This man lives in New York, Ardelia. 
He’s used to real clothes.” 


“I wish he’d stay in New York.” 


BAMBI 233 

“What’s the matter with Mr. Strong? I thought 
you liked him! ” 

“He’s gettin’ too frequentious round here, to suit 
me.” 

“You silly thing, we have business to talk over. 
Hurry on, now, and say I’ll be down in a minute.” 

Ardelia lumbered out, disapproval in every inch of 
her back. 

Richard Strong turned away from the log fire at 
the sound of Bambi’s footsteps running down the 
stairs. The soft gray gown clung to her, and floated 
behind her, its ashen monotone making her face more 
vivid than ever. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes 
looked gray-green in the shadowy room, with the 
deep, shining fire of opals. Both hands went out to 
his in impulsive greeting. 

“Welcome!” she said, smiling. 

“Aren’t you surprised?” 

“I’m pleased. Why should I be surprised?” 

“It is so unheard of, for me to be running out of 
town on unexpected visits to a lady, that it seems as 
if everybody must be as surprised as I am.” 

“The lady was thinking of you when your name 
was announced, which may account for her non- 
surprise.” 


234 


BAMEI 


“Really?’’ lie said so warmly that she blushed a 
bit. 

“Yes, I finished the book to-day. I was thinking 
it all over — this last year. My new sense of get- 
ting somewhere, and of you — the big part you play 
in it all. Have I ever told you how utterly grateful 
lam?” 

He looked down at her, sunk among the cushions 
of the big couch, before replying. 

“I think you need not say it,” he replied. “I 
have been so richly rewarded in knowing you.” 

“Thanks, friend.” 

“You’ve been my secret garden this last year.” 

“Oh, that is nice of you,” she interrupted, sensing 
an undercurrent of feeling. “If I am your secret 
garden, you’re my secret well, because nobody knows 
about us.” 

“You haven’t told them yet?” 

“No. When the book comes out I shall give them 
each a copy, and run and hide while they read it.” 

“Little girl, ” he smiled at her, “what do you think 
brought me down here to-day?” 

“No idea.” 

“Guess.” 

“Can’t. Never guessed anything in my life.” 


BAMBI 235 

He took a letter from his pocket and handed it to 
her. 

“I am to read this?” 

He nodded. She opened it and read: 

“ifr. Richard Strong, New York City, 

“My Dear Mr. Strong: I have read, with very 
great interest, a serial story, published in your mag- 
azine, entitled ‘Francesca.’ I feel that there is the 
making of a delightful comedy in the plot of this 
novel, and I write to ask you whether it would be 
possible for me to secure the dramatic rights from 
the author. As the story is anonymous, I appeal to 
you to put me in touch with the writer in question. 
I shall appreciate an immediate reply. 

“With thanks to you, in advance. Sincerely, 
“Charles Frohman, 

“ Empire Theatre, New York City.” 


“Am I dreaming this? Does this mean my book? ” 
He smiled at her earnestness. 

“It does. I came down to talk it over with you 
and see what you wanted me to do.” 

“What do you think about it, yourself?” 

“I think it’s a great idea. It will advertise the 
book enormously. The book will help the play. 
In the meantime, they both advertise you.” 

“A play made of my thoughts? It’s too wonder- 


236 BAMEI 

ful,” said Bambi. “Do you suppose he’d let me 
make the play?” 

“I don’t know. Would you like to? Do you 
think you could?” 

“I do. I’ve learned lots through- ” She 

stopped of a sudden, and gazed at him. “Why, Jarvis 
must make the play, of course. Why didn’t I think 
of it?” 

“Mr. Frohman would, no doubt, wish to choose 
the playwright, in case you didn’t make the dramatic 
version yourself.” 

“But why couldn’t Jarvis?” 

“Jarvis is totally unknown, you know, and so far 
unsuccessful in playmaking. You could hardly ex- 
pect Mr. Frohman to risk a tyro.” 

She looked at him indignantly. He rated Jarvis 
like a Dun’s Agency. 

“But I’m a tyro. Yet you think he might let 
me do it?” 

“Excuse me, ypu are not a tyro. You are the 
author of one of the season’s most-talked-of books. 
Your name, in a double role, on Mr. Frohman’s three- 
sheets, will be a fine card.” 

“All I know about play writing I learned from 
Jarvis,” she protested. 


BAMBI 


237 


“Well, I didn’t come to argue about Jarvis’s ability 
or accomplishment, you know. Do you wish me 
to tell Frohman who you are, or will you come to 
town and see him yourself?” 

“I’d love to go see him. Isn’t this exciting?” 
she cried, as the full force of what she was saying 
came to her. “Oh, it’s fun to do things, and be 
somebody, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t know. I never tried it.” 

“You! How absurd! Distinguished you, saying 
that to a nouveau like me, when there would have 
been no me except for you.” 

“That’s complicated, but delightful of you, no 
matter how untrue it is . ” 

“It is true. If you hadn’t happened to like the 
first story I happened to write, we would never be 
here discussing my first play, which Mr. Frohman 
happens to want. It’s all you.” 

Mr. Strong suddenly leaned over her, so that she 
felt his breath on her hair. 

“Francesca, if it only, were all me,” he said with 
unexpected passion. She looked up at him, fright- 
ened, amazed. 

“Oh, you mustn’t do that!” she breathed. He 
straightened up at once. 


BAMBI 


^38 

“You’re right. I beg your pardon. ’T was just a 
slip.” 

He took a turn up and down the room, and when 
he came back to the hearth rug he spoke in his usual 
matter-of-fact way. 

“I am to make an appointment, then, for you, 
with Mr. Frohman, at his office.^ ” 

“If you will,” she answered gratefully. 

“ When will you come to New York.^ ” 

“Any day you can get the appointment. The 
sooner the better.” 

“All right.” He looked at his watch. “I must 
get that 5 :40 back to New York.” 

“Oh, you’ll stay to dinner, and spend the night. 

“ No, thanks. I must get back.” 

“But the Professor will never forgive me.” 

“You must make a good case for me. I really 
must go.” 

She rose to give him her hand. 

“It was so good of you to come with this wonderful 
news, that ‘thank you’ is inadequate.” 

“I thought we had agreed not to say ‘thank you’ 
to each other. ” 

“You never have any occasion to say it to me,” she 
smiled ruefully. 


BAMBI 


“Haven’t I? I think you don’t know ” She 

interrupted him nervously. 

“Friends don’t need thank-yous. We will discard 
them.” 

“Good! Can I be of service in getting you to Mr, 
Frohman’s office?” 

“ Oh, no. Jarvis will take me.” 

“To be sure. For the moment I had forgotten 
Jarvis.” 

“I’ll telephone you when I go to town, and find out 
about my plans.” 

“Thank you.” 

He took her hand and held it a moment. 

“Forgive me when I seem a bad friend. Trust 
me.” 

“I do, Richard, I do.” 

“ Oh, thank you. May I say Francesca? ” 

“ If you like. No one ever calls me by that name.” 

“That’s why I choose it. Good-bye. My regards 
to the father.” 

“ Good-bye, friend. I’m ecstatic over your news.” 

“So am I over any news that brings you happiness. 
Good night.” 

After he left she sank down on the couch again, her 
brain a whirl of her new sensations and ideas. That 


240 


BAMBI 


Richard Strong had learned to care for her, during 
these months of intimate association over the story, 
came with as great a surprise as the astonishing de- 
mand of Mr. Frohman. Her own thoughts had been 
so free of sentiment in regard to him; she went over 
every step of their advancing friendship, asking her- 
self how much she was to blame for his outburst. 
She had only exerted her wiles for histrionic purposes 
on the occasion of his first visit. He certainly could 
not have misunderstood her intentions, then, when 
she had deliberately explained them to him. After 
close examination she exonerated herself. 

Then, and only then, was she free to indulge her 
thoughts in the joyous news he had brought her. 
Chin on hand, before the fire, she worked it out. 
She and Jarvis would write the play together, to- 
gether they would go through all the exciting stages 
of rehearsal and trying out, together they would 
make their bow before the curtain and their first- 
night’s speech. She decided what kind of frock she 
would wear. It was all picturesque and successful. 
She never faced the possibility of failure. Jarvis’s 
name would be made as a playwright. At the 
thought that she was to bring him his opportunity at 
last, she flushed and smiled, though her eyes misted. 


BAMBI 241 

Then she began to plan how she would tell it to 
Jarvis, the story of her adventuring into the new 
field, her swift success, and now this last laurel 
leaf. Suddenly a new idea lifted its head. Suppose 
Jarvis refused to come into his own, under her man- 
tle, as it were? He would be proud and glad for her, 
of course, but maybe he would resent taking his 
first chance from her hands. With knitted brow 
she pondered that for some time. The more she 
thought of it, the more convinced she became that 
even though he accepted it, and showed gratitude, 
deep down in his heart would be the feeling that he 
would be only contributing to her success, that was 
in no way his own. Long she sat, and finally she 
laughed, nodded her head, and clapped her hands. 

“Oh, yes, that’s the way!” said she. 

The Professor came in upon her at this point. 

“Are you saying an incantation, my dear.^^” 

“No, offering thanks to the gods.” 

“For what.?^” 

“For the most unconscionable luck.” 

“In what form, may I ask.?” 

“Look at me!” she ordered. 

He fixed his faded eyes on her closely, 
see you.” 


242 


BAMBI 


“See how pretty I am?” 

“You’re not bad-looking.” 

“Bad-looking? I’m extremely near to being a 
beauty. Look at the father I have — distinguished, 
delightful!” 

“Oh, my dear!” 

“Look at the husband the gods gave me!’' 

“Yes, your long-distance husband.” 

“Look at Ardelia! Who ever heard of such a 
cook? Consider my brains.” 

“There, I grant you.” 

“Besides that, I am the sole possessor of a secret 
which is too perfectly delicious to be true.” 

“Do you intend to tell this secret to me?” 

“Yes, as soon as it is ripe.” 

She caught his hands and whirled him about. 

“Oh, Professor, Professor, you ought to be very 
glad that you are related to me!” 

“Bambina, one moment. I dislike being jerked 
around like a live jumping-jack.” 

“It’s evident I didn’t get my dancing talents 
from you, old centipede. Sit down, and I’ll dance 
a joy dance.” 

She pushed him on the couch, and began a wild, 
fantastic dance on the hearth rug before him, the 


BAMBI 


243 


firelight fiashing through the thin, gray draperies. 
Even the Professor breathed a little faster as the 
lithe figure swayed and bent and curved into wonder- 
ful lines, which melted ever into new ones. It was 
young, elemental joy, every step of it; sexless, no 
Bacchante dance, but rather a pseon of ecstasy, such 
as a dryad might have danced in the woods. At the 
climax she stood poised, her arms lifted in exulta- 
tion. Then she dropped beside him. 

“My child!” he exclaimed. “That was most ex*- 
traordinary! Where did you learn it?” 

“Ages back, when I lived in a tree.” 

“It must be a happy secret to make you dance 
like that.” 

“Oh,” said she, snuggling up to him, putting 
her head on his shoulder, “it is the gayest, pleasant- 
est, hopefulest secret a girl ever had. If I don’t 
hold my hands over my mouth, it will break out of 
me.” 

“Does Jarvis know?” 

“Oats, peas, beans, and barley grows. 

You, nor he, nor nobody knows!” 


she laughed. “It’s going to be the most amusing 


244 BAMBI 

moment of my life when I spring it on the two 
of you.” 

“When is that to be.^” 

“Curiosity is death to mathematicians,” she 
warned him, nor could he extract another word from 
behind the hand she held over her laughing mouth. 


XX 


^APPOINTMENT at three o’clock, Tuesday 

j % afternoon,” announced Strong’s wire on 
Monday morning. 

“Hurray!” shouted Bambi, rushing into the 
kitchen to break the news to Ardelia, since the Pro- 
fessor was not there. 

“ Noo Yawk, bress yo’ ! Ain’t dat fine.? Yo’ gwine 
see Mistah Jarvis?” 

“Of course I’ll see him.” 

“Yo’ can tote him back home, mebbe.” 

“I’ll take the early morning train to-morrow.” 

“I reckon I’ll fry up some chicken an’ bake some 
cakes, so yo’ can tote it right along wid yo’/' 

“Now, look here, Ardelia. I’m not going to pack 
any basket along on the train to New York. Jar- 
vis can buy his fried chicken there.” 

“He say dey ain’t no cookin’ lak’ dere is in dis 
town.” 

“Well, it will have to do for a little longer. I’ll 
have my bag and plenty to carry.” 

245 


BAMBI 


“Yo’ ain’t got no nat’chal feelin’ fo’ dat boy,” 
Ardelia scolded her. 

When the Professor heard the news he evinced 
a mild surprise. 

“Have you any money for this trip.^ I’m a trifle 
short, now. The bank notified me yesterday that 
I was overdrawn.” 

“Professor, not again What is the use of being 
a mathematician if you are always overdrawn?” 

“The trouble is I forget to look at my balance. 
I just continue to draw until I am notified. You 
will see Jarvis, of course? ” 

“Yes.” 

“You say you have business to attend to in the 
city?” 

“Yes.” 

“About the secret?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is the moment of disclosure approaching?” 

She nodded. 

“Well, I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” 

“Thanks, Herr Professor.” 

She took the early train in high good humour the 
next morning, clad in her most fetching frock. 

“Even a stony-hearted manager could not be 


247 

impervious to this hat,’’ was her parting comment 
to her glass. 

She was very undecided as to whether she would 
go straight to Jarvis’s lodgings and surprise him, or 
wait until after the interview with Frohman. She 
finally decided that she could not wait until four 
o’clock, but that she would give Jarvis no hint 
of the coming momentous appointment. As she 
came into the city, she noted the bright, crisp 
winter day with pleasure — very different from 
that spring day when she and Jarvis had entered 
the gates together. But to-day was to-day and she 
was glad of it. 

She took a taxi, with that sense of affluence which 
attacks one like a germ on entering the City of 
Spenders. The driver looked at her again as she 
gave the address. The trim, smart little figure 
did not look much like the neighbourhood she was 
headed for. Probably one of these settlement work- 
ers, he decided. 

At first Bambi did not notice where she was 
going, so happy was she to be back in this gay city. 

‘T know you’re a Painted Lady, but you’re so 
pretty!” she smiled, as the streets ran by. Dowm 
town and still downtown the taxi sped, past the 


248 


BAMBI 


Washington Square district, which they had explored 
together, shooting off at a tangent into the kind of 
neighbourhood where Bambi had fallen sick at 
the sights and the filth. They drew up before an 
old-fashioned house, with dirty steps and windows 
and curtains. It looked like a better-class citizen 
on the down grade, beside the neighbouring houses, 
which were frankly low-class. The driver opened 
the door and Bambi stared up at the place. 

‘‘Why, this can’t be it!” she exclaimed. 

“This is the number you gave me.” 

“Wait,” she said. She ran up the rickety steps, 
her heart sick with fear. She rang and waited 
and rang. Finally, a dirty head appeared out of 
an upstairs window. 

“What d’yer want?” a voice demanded. 

“Does Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn live here?” 

“Three fiights up-back,” and the window slammed. 

“Wait for me, driver,” she called. She began to 
climb the dirty stairs, tears in her eyes. 

“Oh, my dear, my dear!” she said, over and over 
again. 

She knocked at the third-floor back, with no re- 
sponse; so she opened the door and entered. One 
dark area window, a bed, a chair, a dresser, an im- 


BAMBI 


249 


provised table with piles of manuscript. It was 
cleaner than the awful entrance suggested. But, oh, 
it was pitiful! Such a place for a dreamer! Bambi 
leaned her head on the dresser and sobbed. That 
he had been reduced to this, that he had never told 
them, that he had refused the Professor’s money and 
chosen poverty ! It nearly killed her, while it thrilled 
her with a pride unspeakable. If he had the strength 
for such a fight, nothing could conquer him. She 
started at a step outside, thinking that it might be he. 

Suddenly she realized that he might not want even 
her to see this; that he might not want her to know 
of this drab tent where he crawled for sleep off the 
field of battle. She went to the narrow bed and laid 
her hand gently where his cheek would rest. 

“Jarvis, my dear!” she whispered. 

Then she went down the rickety stairs, out to the 
waiting cab. She was sick, heart and body, at the 
revelation of what his struggle meant. All the mother 
in her cried out at the physical distress of such sur- 
roundings to a nature sensitive to environment. 

He could have come back to the sunny, airy rooms 
he had made his, at home; but he had chosen to stay 
and win. So many things she had not understood 
about him were made clear now, and she wondered if 


250 


BAMBI 


Bichard Strong had found him there. No wonder 
Jarvis had repulsed him, taken unawares, and at such 
a disadvantage ! 

“Oh, why didn’t you let me know and help.^” she 
repeated. She had the man take her round and 
round the Park, where it was quiet. She must get 
herself in hand. She felt that at the slightest excuse 
she would burst into hysterics! More than ever, 
now, must she be mistress of herself for the coming 
interview. She must fight to catch the big manager’s 
attention, and win her way with him. She drew her 
furs about her, closed her eyes, and tried to shut out 
the sight of that sordid, wretched room, where hand- 
some big Jarvis was paying the toll to success — toll 
of blood and brain and nerves, paid by every man or 
woman who mounts to the top ! She saw him climb- 
ing wearily those dirty stairs, coming into the cell. 
Over and over she saw it, like a moving-picture film 
repeated indefinitely. 

At quarter before three she ordered the driver to 
the Empire Theatre. This time his face cleared. 
Actress, of course. Probably went to the slums to 
look up a drunken husband. He drew up at the 
theatre, demanded a queen’s ransom for her release, 
and stood at attention. She was too nervous to notice 


BAMBI 251 

the amount, and paid it absently, dismissed him, and 
hurried to the elevator. 

She was first shown into the general-domo’s office, 
where she was catechised as to her name and her 
business. She waited fifteen minutes while her name 
was passed down the line. Word came back that 
Mr. Frohman was engaged. Would she please 
wait.^ 

“I’ll wait, but my appointment was at three,” she 
said. 

The major-domo looked at her as if such lese ma- 
jesie deserved hanging. In fifteen minutes more she 
was conducted into an anteroom, where she was 
turned over to a secretary. Her business was ex- 
plained to him. In due course of time word came 
out that Mr. Frohman would be through in ten min- 
utes. She was moved, then, to a tiny room next the 
sacred door leading into the inner mystery. Twenty 
minutes passed, then a youth appeared. 

“Mr. Frohman will receive you now,” he an- 
nounced in solemn tones. 

Bambi refrained from an impulse to say, “Thank 
you, St. Peter,” and followed into the private office. 
For a second she was petrified with fear, then with the 
courage of the terror-stricken she marched down the 


252 BAMBI 

long room to the desk where Mr. Frohman sat look- 
ing at her. 

“ Sorry to keep you waiting,” said he. 

Bambi fixed her shining eyes upon him and smiled 
confidently. 

“I feel as if I’d gotten into the Kingdom of Heaven 
for a short talk with God ! ” 

The smile on the manager’s face broke into a laugh. 

“Is it as bad as that? Sit down and see how you 
like it up here? ” 

“Thanks,” she said, sinking into the big chair be- 
side the desk. 

“ So you wrote ‘Francesca,’ did you? ” 

“I did.” 

“You look pretty young to know as much about 
life as that book tells.” 

“Oh, I’m old in experience,” she boasted. 

He looked closely at her ingenuous face, and 
laughed again. 

“You don’t look it. I think there’s a play in that 
book.” 

“So do I.” 

“ Did you ever write a play? 

“No, but I’ve helped on several plays. I know a 
great deal about them,” she assured him. 


BAMBI 


253 


“Do you? Well, that’s more than I do. Any 
of the plays that you have helped on been pro- 
duced?” 

“ That isn’t fair of you,” she protested. “ I should 
have boasted about it if they had.” 

“A skilled playwright could take the heart of your 
story and build up a clever comedy.” 

“Could we have Bichard Bennett, Marguerite 
Clarke, and Albert Bruning play the parts? ” 

“Oh, ho, you’ve got it all cast, have you? ” 

She nodded. 

“And I know just the man to make the play.” 

“Do you? So do I. Whom do you choose? ” 

“Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

“Jarvis Jocelyn? Who’s he? ” 

“He’s a young playwright. He hasn’t had any- 
thing produced yet, but he’s extremely clever, and I 
do so want him to have the chance.” 

“Jarvis Jocelyn! Seems as though I had heard 
that name. Oh, your name is Jocelyn,” he added. 
“ Is this a relative? ” 

“Sort of — husband.” 

“ Husband? So you’re married? ” in surprise. 

“Yes. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll have to tell 
you some personal history.” 


254 


BAMBI 


“Go ahead. I wish I could think where I had 
heard that fellow’s name.” 

“He submitted a play to you, called ‘Success.’ ” 

“What — the cab-driver You mean to say 
you’re married to the cab-driver? ” 

“Cab-driver?” 

“The ‘Success’ fellow came in here, in a long coat 
and a top hat. Said he was driving a hansom to help 
a friend and incidentally turn a penny himself. Big, 
handsome, blond fellow. I remember, I liked him.” 

Surprise, pain, then understanding, flashed across 
her face, and somehow the manager knew that he had 
betrayed a secret to her and that it hurt. She con- 
trolled herself quickly, and answered him. 

“Yes, that was Jarvis. We were married last 
spring, and we both set out on a career. I kept mine 
a secret, and just by luck I succeeded. But Jarvis” 
— here her eyes filled with tears — “you’ve no idea 
how hard it is to be a playwright ! Everybody thinks 
what a snap it is to collect royalties when you are a 
Broadway favourite, but they don’t know all those 
terrible days and nights before you get there, and 
what it means if you never do get there.” 

“I know,” he nodded. “So you want to give this 
fellow the chance to make this play ? ” 


BAMEI 255 

‘‘I want to more than I ever wanted anything in 
my life.” 

“Well, well!” he said, in surprise at her earnestness. 

“I want you to send for him, give him the com- 
mission, and never mention me.” 

“Why not.?^” 

“I do not want him to know that I had anything 
to do with it.” 

“He doesn’t know you wrote the book.? ” 

“No.” 

“And you’re married to him, you say.? ” 

She nodded. 

“Upon my word, you’re a queer pair! Are you 
Francesca, and is he the musician of the story.? ” 

“Well, they are based on us, rather.” 

He laughed. 

“Dear, kind Mr. Frohman, will you do this.? ” 

“ I told the fellow to try his hand at a comedy. He 
might handle this, if we could hold him down. Awful 
preacher, isn’t he.? ” 

“He’s young,” she answered patronizingly. The 
manager covered a smile. 

“ Won’t he recognize himself and you in the book.? ” 

“I think not. He’s so unobserving, and he does 
not suspect me at all. He’ll never know.” 


256 


BAMBI 


“You may have to work with him on the play.” 

“Oh, he’ll appeal to me for help. He always does. 
We will do it together, only he will not know about 
the author.” 

“You will have to come to rehearsals.” 

“I’ll come as wife of the playwright, or co- 
author.” 

“You’ve got it all thought out, haven’t you.^^ ” 

“I have.” 

“Sounds like a farce plot to me. Give me my 
instructions again. You want me to send for him, 
tell him to make a play out of this book ” 

She smiled and nodded. 

“ Suppose he asks me who the author is? ” 

“You could say that she insisted upon preserving 
her anonymity.” 

“What else do I do?” 

“That’s all.” 

“If this is your idea of a short interview with God, 
you certainly make good in dictating his policy to 
him!” 

Bambi’s laughter rippled and sang. 

“But you will do it?” 

“I’ll make a start by calling the cabby.” 

She rose and held out her hand. 


BAMEI 257 

“rm so glad you’re like this,” she said. “I shall 
love doing things with you.” 

“Much obliged. I’m glad you came in. You’ll 
probably hear from one of us as to the next move in 
the matter . Good-bye ! ’ ’ 

“ Good-bye and thanks, Mr. God.” 

His laugh followed her out. He sat for several 
minutes thinking about her and her plan. He re- 
called Jarvis’s fine, unconscious exit at the time of 
his interview. He rang for a boy, and demanded 
Jarvis’s address. 

Bambi walked out, treading on air. She had 
won her point. She had got Jarvis his chance. 
She thought it all out — the coming of Frohman’s 
letter, his joy over the commission, how he would 
announce it to her. She laughed aloud, so that 
several people turned to look at her and a man slowed 
up and fell in step. 

She went into a tea-shop to have tea, calm down, 
and decide on the next step. Would she stay over- 
night, summoning Jarvis to meet her next day, or 
should she go home on the night train and not see 
him at all.^ Could she bear to see his face with the 
imprint of poverty and discouragement.^ He had 
been so reduced as to be forced to drive a cab, she 


258 


BAMBI 


might even meet him on the avenue! No, she would 
go home to-night, and let Jarvis come to her with 
news of his victory. 

So she surprised the Professor at breakfast. 
“Morning!” she cried. 

“Bambi! We didn’t expect you so soon.” 

“I finished what I had to do, so here I am.” 

“And Jarvis.^” 

“Oh, he’s well.” 

“Was he surprised to see you.^” 

“Very.” 

“Is he getting on.?^” 

“Slowly. But he will win.” 

“If he can learn to be practical ” 

“He’s learning,” said Bambi, grimly. 

“When is he coming home.f^” 

“He did not say.” 

“ Nobody buys his plays yet.^ ” 

“Not yet.” 

“I’m not surprised. That woman, you know, in 

the play he read us ” 

“Don’t talk about her till I get my break- 
fast.” 

He looked at her in surprise, she was so seldom 
irritated. She rang for Ardelia. 


BAMBI 


259 


“Why, Miss Bambi, honey! I didn’t see yo’ all 
cornin’.” 

“Here I am, and hungry, too.” 

“How’s Mistah Jarvis.^” 

“All right. Breakfast, Ardelia, I perish.” 

“Did you have a successful trip.^^” inquired her 
father. 

“I did, very.” 

“How did you find Babylon.^^” 

“As Babylonish as ever.” 

She seemed strangely disinclined for conversation, 
so her wise parent left her to her meditations and her 
breakfast. But he patted her as he passed to go 
out. 

“We’re glad to have you back, my daughter.” 

She brushed his cheek with her lips, understand- 
ingly. 


XXI 


G OD’S in his heaven! All’s right with the 
world!” carrolled Bambi gayly the next 
day. 

She wrote Mr. Strong of her interview with Mr. 
Frohman and its happy outcome. It gave her some 
satisfaction to announce that the manager was will- 
ing to entrust Jarvis with the play. She explained 
that she was obliged to come home on the night 
train, so she had missed the pleasure of seeing him. 
Would he see that Mr. Frohman had the first bound 
copy of the book.^^ 

She added that she was happy, but it was super- 
fluous. It sang itself through the note, so that 
Strong patted the paper, as he finished it, as if it 
were a personal belonging of the sender. 

The letter finished, she mounted the stairs to Jar- 
vis’s house, as she always called the top floor. She 
wandered about, comparing it with that place of 
confinement where he now dwelt. To-day he would 
260 


BAMBI 261 

write or telegraph to her his news, if he had the inter- 
view with Frohman. 

She began work on the play, up in his study. She 
outlined the main plot, marked scenes in the book 
she thought vital, scraps of conversation which 
would be effective. She planned the sets for the 
different acts, even deciding upon Francesca’s clothes. 
Ever and anon, in the midst of her happy scheming, 
she fell to dreaming of the days to come, with Jar- 
vis home again, and their work together resumed. 

Whenever the doorbell rang she stopped and 
waited for Ardelia’s heavy foot upon the stairs as 
she toiled up with the telegram or special delivery. 
But the morning passed, plus half the afternoon, 
with no word from him. She went down to the 
post-office herself in the hope that the late mail 
would reward her. There was nothing for her. 

The next day brought only a note from Strong 
congratulating her enthusiastically, and prophesying 
a great success for the Jocelyn family. She spent 
a restless day waiting for the postman, afraid to 
leave the house for fear she would miss a wire. She 
grew so nervous that she scolded Ardelia and fussed 
at the Professor. Night found her entirely discour- 
aged. Something had happened. Frohman had 


BAMBI 


changed his mind, or Jarvis had refused. She had 
known all along that it was too good to be true. 
She tossed all night, sleepless, her mind running 
around like a squirrel in a trap, planning another 
trip to see the manager. 

The early morning found her pacing the paths 
of the frostbitten garden, where the Professor found 
her later. 

‘‘Why, good morning, Bambi mia,” said he, in 
surprise. 

“Good day, Herr Vater!” 

“What brings you forth so early, lady-bird.^” 

“My hateful thoughts! Oh, daddy, there’s a 
crick in the secret.” 

“A crick? Dear me, what a pity!” 

“If it doesn’t get itself straightened out to-day, 
I shall go to New York again, to see what I can do.” 

“The companionship of a secret is often corrup- 
tive to good habits, such as sleep and appetite. 
Better tell me this mystery.” 

“If it isn’t settled to-day, I will tell you.” 

“Very good.” 

“These late asters are hardy things?” 

“Yes. The rest of the poor beds are full of ghosts.” 

“Ghosts always stalk, don’t they?” 


BAIMBI 


263 


He looked at her in concern. “You are upset,” 
he said, and they both laughed. 

She followed him about for an hour, talking, watch- 
ing his exact, methodical movements. The early 
morning air was keen, in spite of the sun. When the 
postman appeared on the block she ran to the 
gate to meet him. He was an old friend, on the 
route ever since she could remember. 

“Hello, Miss Bambi, you’re early this morning,” 
he called. 

“I couldn’t sleep for my sins. If you don’t give 
me a letter, Mr. Ben, I’ll scream.” 

“Go ahead!” 

“You mean ” 

He laughed at her discomfited face and handed 
her the letter. A quick glance showed the Empire 
Theatre in one corner. She blew him a kiss on her 
finger tips. 

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, dear Mr. 
Ben. That’s it!” 

“I tell you I’m a regular little Cupid. Don’t 
know what the girls in this town would do without 
me,” he laughed, as he trudged away. Bambi read: 


“My Dear Mrs. Jocelyn: It gives me pleasure 


264 


BAMBI 


to announce that Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn has almost 
agreed to accept the commission. I think he feels 
that it is condescension on his part, but he accepts 
conditionally. He carried off the copies of the mag- 
azine to read your story, and he is to give me his 
answer to-day. As I am sure of a favourable one, 
I think we may consider the matter settled. 

“Hoping that this meets with your entire ap- 
proval, 

“I am, faithfully, 

“ Charles Frohman. 

“P. S. I told him that I understood the author 
was an unhappy wife, who desired to be unknown.” 

The Professor looked up as Bambi pirouetted 
around the beds, waving a fluttering white sheet 
in good melodrama style. 

“This letter that I longed for, it has came!” she 
sang, lifting a pointed toe over the top of a withered 
sunflower stalk. 

“My dear, that ballet step is a trifle exaggerated 
for a lady!” 

“The sunflower’s dead, so it couldn’t be shocked. 
The secret is working fine. Oh, I’m so happy, I’m 
so happy!” she trilled, and whirled off toward the 
house. 

“If you are still thinking of a career, why not a 
whirling dervish?” called her father. 


BAMEI 


265 


She stopped, and turned to him. 

“Career.? Career, did you say, for stupid little 
me.?’’ 

“I never called you stupid,” he protested. 

“I should hope not. I’m the smartest child you 
ever had ! ” she cried as a period to their discourse. 

All day she waited for word from Jarvis and none 
came. She could have cried with disappointment. 
Could he have been insane enough to refuse, after 
he had read the story.? Or did he think she was 
indifferent to his good fortune? She went to bed 
determined to write him on the morrow. 

The morning mail brought a second letter from the 
Empire Theatre. It contained a line from Mr. 
Frohman, “He accepts,” and an enclosure. This 
proved to be a letter from Jarvis : 

“ To the Author of ‘Francesca/ care of Mr. Frohman, 

Empire Theatre, New York. 

“ My Dear Madam: Mr. Charles Frohman has 
given me your story ‘Francesca’ to read, with a view 
to making it into a play. Of course you are familiar 
with his plans in this respect. He has offered to 
entrust me with the dramatization, and I have con- 
sented to accept, on the condition that both you and 
he will allow me to use my own discretion in the work, 
and not hamper me by superimposing your own ideas 
and desires. When I have finished all I can do with 


266 


BAMBI 


it, I will then try to incorporate any ideas you may 
have in the final version. 

“I think the story very charming, the characters 
interesting. The part of the musician seems to me 
rather fantastic, but I suppose there are such men. 
The girl, Francesca, is delightful; the old fiddler, a 
fine study. 

“You are to be congratulated on your work, and 
I trust I may be able to make as good a play as you 
have made a book. 

“Very truly yours, 

“Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

Bambi chuckled as she read, and patted the part 
which praised her. Whatever else had happened, 
Jarvis’s dignity was still intact. He calmly told the 
author to keep her hands off her own book ! 

She flew to the typewriter to answer him. 

“ilfr. Jarvis Jocelyn, care of Mr, Charles Frohman, 

Empire Theatre, New York. 

“ My Dear Mr. Jocelyn: Your letter in regard 
to the dramatization of my book, ‘Francesca,’ 
seems to demand immediate assurance that you will 
have free rein in the work you are to do. Mr. Froh- 
man has told me something of you and of your work, 
and I shall be very happy if my story gives you your 
first opportunity to succeed as a playwright. 

“I am glad you are pleased with my story. Did 
you know that it was my first one.^^ Your comment 
on the character of the musician interested me, as it 
is a close portrait of a friend. 


BAMBI 


267 


“Trusting that we may work together to a success- 
ful end, I am 

“Sincerely, 

“The Author. 

“P. S. For private reasons I prefer to remain 
unknown to you. You can always reach me through 
Mr. Frohman’s office. You must forgive typed let- 
ters.” 


This she sent to the Frohman office, with a re- 
quest that it be forwarded. The next day brought 
Jarvis’s news: 

“Dear Bambi: For three days I have resisted 
the constant temptation to send you word of what 
seemed to be extraordinarily good news, but many 
disappointments have made me a doubting Thomas, 
so I held off until I was really sure. To begin at the 
beginning, I was at the lowest ebb of disgust with 
myself last week for my inability to get in step with 
the grand march. Only a fool can be excused for 
failure, and I am not that. So a summons from the 
Frohman office somewhat restored my self-respect. 
It seems that Mr. Frohman has never forgotten my 
previous interview, so when he decided to make a play 
of a popular novel entitled ‘Francesca,’ he imme- 
diately thought of me. 

“ Of course this is not the kind of play I want to do, 
so I said I would look over the book and if I liked it I 
would have a try at it. The long and the short of it 
is I have accepted. The woman who wrote the thing 


268 


BAMBI 


has promised to keep out of it. She seems to be a 
nice kind of person, but for some reason wants to 
make a mystery of herself. Frohman hints at a do- 
mestic tragedy as her reason. I’m sure I do not care 
about her private affairs. 

“She has written a clever and delightful book. 
The heroine, oddly enough called Francesca, suggests 
you in places, except that she is a more practical sort 
than you are. The hero, a musician, is a sort of sub- 
limated madman. The best character of all is an old 
fiddler. There is a play in it. The more I think 
about it, the more I am convinced of that. 

“Would you care to help me on it? Both of our 
names could go on the bill. I have come to know, 
these last months, since I have been working at 
things here alone, how much the growth in my work 
is due to you. The human touch you have given my 
characters, or helped me to give them, is the essen- 
tial element in my improvement. You started a 
good many wires to jangling that spring day when 
you indulged your mad impulse to marry an im- 
possibility ! 

“Regards to the Professor. 

“Yours, 

“Jarvis.” 


Bambi went to the telegraph oflace and wired him: 

“Congratulations. Of course I’ll help! Come 
home. 


“Bambi.” 


BAMBI 


269 


He answered, by letter, that he thought it best to 
stay on until Mr. Frohman and the author were both 
satisfied with the framework of the play. Then he 
would come, most gladly, to work in the old study. 
He would submit his ideas for a scenario the next day 
or so. 

From that moment the fun began for Bambi. He 
wrote daily about the outline, and weekly letters to 
the author were forwarded to her from the Frohman 
office. These she answered, disguised as the author, 
with many a chuckle of amusement. A sort of friend- 
liness crept into these letters as they increased in 
number. 

Christmas week arrived with no definite assurance 
from Jarvis as to his plans, but Bambi was confident 
that he would be at home for the holiday. Professor 
Parkhurst demanded daily bulletins of his son-in- 
law’s intentions, while Ardelia bemoaned and be- 
wailed lest he fail to return. 

The day before Kris Kringle was due a white snow 
descended like a benediction. Bambi and the Pro- 
fessor sat before a huge, crackling fire in the library. 
She was restless as a spirit. She sat at the piano 
and sang “O Lonely Pine Tree Standing,” until the 
Professor objected. 


£70 


BAMBI 


“Sing something gay, my child.” 

“ God rest ye, merry gentleman. 

Let nothing ye dismay. 

For Jesus Christ, the Saviour, 

Was born on Christmas Day,” 

she sang gladly. 

All at once her hands fell silent on the keys, while 
she stared at the doorway a full second before she rose. 
Jarvis stood there looking at her. He was powdered 
with snowflakes. He held his soft hat crushed 
against him, showing his hair, glistening with snow, 
and curled close to his head with dampness. It was 
his face that focussed her attention. The old proud 
carriage of the head was there, but an asking look 
had come into his eyes and mouth in place of the old 
arrogance. In the second she hesitated she saw all 
this — caught the glow and the beauty of him, as 
well as the appeal. 

“Jarvis!” she cried, and met him halfway across 
the room, both hands out. 

“Bambi!” he answered her huskily, and she knew 
that he was moved at the sight of her. He crushed 
her hands in his, and drank her in, from her shining 
eyes to her boots, oblivious to the startled Professor, 
who stood looking on. 


BAMBI 


271 


“Welcome home!’’ said Bambi, unsteadily. 

“Did you come through the roof.^” inquired Pro- 
fessor Parkhurst. 

“ I had a passkey. How are you.^ ” Jarvis laughed, 
mangling the Professor’s hand. The latter rescued 
and inspected his limp fingers. 

“I am well, but I shall never use that hand again.” 

“You have come home,” said Bambi, foolishly. 

‘‘I have. My, but it’s good to be here! I got 
Frohman’s approval on the framework of the play to- 
day, and ran for the first train.” 

“Does the author approve, too.^” 

“She does. She is more or less a figurehead, but 
she seems reasonable.” 

“Oh, Jarvis, you’re a nice Christmas present. Go 
put these wet things in the hall, call on Ardelia, and 
come back. It will take at least a week to say all the 
things I want to say to you.” 

He smiled at her, and marched off to do her bid- 
ding. 

“He looks fine, doesn’t he.^ I never realized be- 
fore how handsome he is,” said the Professor. 

“He’s thrilling! ” replied Bambi. 

Her father inspected her thoughtfully. 

“What a talent you have for hitting people off! 


272 BAMBI 

That is just it: he thrills you with a feeling of youth 
and power.” 

“Plus some new and softer quality,” added Bambi, 
as if to herself. 

The powwow in the kitchen could be heard all over 
the house, Ardelia welcoming home the Prodigal Son. 
It was only after long argument he escaped the fatted 
calf. She could not conceive of him except as hungry 
after many months in the heathen city. 

When he came back into the library he swept with 
his eyes its caressing harmony of colour, tone, and 
atmosphere. He had never noticed it before. The 
Professor’s beautiful profile, like a fine steel engrav- 
ing, thrown into high relief by the lamplight, seemed 
a part of it. The vibrant little figure on the hearth 
rug, in a fiame-coloured gown, was the high note that 
gave it all climax. His mind swept the gamut of 
dirty hall bedrooms, back to this, and the sigh with 
which he sank into the big couch caught Bambi’s 
amused attention. 

“It was satisfaction,” he assured her. “For the 
first time in my life, I’ve got the home feeling.” 

She nodded understandingly. Her mind, too, 
swept up those dirty stairs, peeped into the cell, and 
flew back, singing. 


BAMBI 


273 


The Professor moved over beside Jarvis, and the 
wander tales began. Bambi fluttered about like a 
scarlet tanager, tantalizing Jarvis with a desire to 
catch her in his hand and hold her still. 

At eleven the Professor said good night. Imme- 
diately Bambi led the talk to their proposed work, 
and held it there, firmly, until midnight chimed. 
Jarvis told her of the sale of the “Street Songs” to 
Strong’s magazine, and announced that one hundred 
dollars of it was to be set down in the Black Maria 
account. She laughed and congratulated him. 

Finally she rose. 

“Your rooms are always ready for you, so I do 
not need to go up and see about them. A Merry 
Christmas, Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

He laid his hands on her shoulders and looked deep 
into her eyes. He thought he felt her tremble under 
his touch, but her glance was as frank and emotion- 
less as a boy’s. 

“A Merry Christmas to you. Miss Mite,” he an- 
swered, with a sigh. She laughed, unexpectedly 
patted his cheek with her hand, and ran upstairs. 


XXII 


C HRISTMAS DAY in the little house was a 
real celebration. It was the first one in the 
Jocelyns’ married fife, and the entire house- 
hold entered into the spirit of Yuletide with enthu- 
siasm. At Bambi’s suggestion, they hid the presents 
all over the house. The subsequent search and dis- 
covery were carried on with much laughter and 
shouting. Ardelia’s delight over her gifts was vo- 
cal and extreme. The Professor continually forgot 
which presents were his, and collected every one 
else’s into his pile, from which the owner laughingly 
rescued them. A pair of silk stockings for Bambi 
which he absent-mindedly appropriated caused much 
mirth. 

Jarvis’s gift to Bambi was a dull gold chain, hung 
with tassels of baroque pearls, an exquisite feminine 
bauble. 

“Oh, Jarvis, how charming! It’s like a lovely 
lady’s happy tears! ” she exclaimed. 

He blushed happily. 


274 


BAMBI 


275 


“I thought it looked like you.’’ 

“A thousand thanks! Fasten the clasp for me.” 

He fumbled it awkwardly, but with final success. 
She turned for inspection, her eyes avid for praise. 
He nodded. 

“It is where it belongs,” he said. 

The day passed happily. Ardelia’s dinner was 
a Christmas poem. When the Professor compli- 
mented her on the success of everything, she replied : 

“Yassuh, dis heah day been all right. But I 
hopes befo’ nex’ Chris’mus we all gwine to have some 
chilluns to make dis a sho’ nuff pahty.” 

Bambi’s face was scarlet, but she faced it out. 

“Oh, not children, Ardelia — singular, you mean, 
I hope.” 

“No, I don’t mean sing’lar. We don’ want no 
sing’lar chilluns. I mean jes’ plain chilluns.” 

“The holiday seems to be peculiarly the children’s 
day,” said the Professor, unaware of the situation, 
and so saved it! 

Thus it was that Jarvis was welcomed into the 
family circle again, and this time he became an 
integral part as he had never been before. The 
day after Christmas he came to Bambi with her 
story. 


276 BAMBI 

“You told me you had read this book, didn’t 
you?” 

“Yes, I’ve read it.” 

“What do you think of it?” he asked her, curi- 
ously. 

“I adore it! ” she replied. 

He sat down beside her, gravely. 

“It’s a strange thing, but the book grows on you. 
When I first read it, I thought it was a clever little 
trifle. But as I work with it, I have come to see 
that it is remarkable in its human quality. You feel 
the charm of the author all through it.” 

“Do you?” eagerly. 

“Didn’t you?” 

“I don’t know. I loved the girl. She seemed 
very true to me.” 

“I’ve never known any girls except you, and I 
don’t know you very well, but there are spots where 
you and the other Francesca are strikingly alike. I 
suppose it is not you, but feminine, I mix them 
up.” 

“If we are to make a play of it, I am glad we both 
love it.” 

“I find myself intensely interested in the myste- 
rious woman who wrote it. To me there is no hint 


BAMBI 


277 


in the story of the infelicity Mr. Frohman hinted at. 
I would like to know her.” 

“Don’t you expect to see her when the play is 
finished.^” 

“She says she wishes me not to know her.” 

“But she will have to come to rehearsals?” 

“I must ask her about that. Maybe she will 
come, then.” 

“You write to her?” 

“Oh, yes. I have to keep her in touch with my 
progress.” 

“I thought you told her to keep out.” 

“I did. But she has been so agreeable about it 
that I decided to keep her posted as I went along.” 

Bambi rose. 

“I’ve no doubt she is very fascinating,” she said, 
coldly. 

“You don’t object to my interest in her? ” 

“Object? My dear Jarvis, you may be interested 
in all the women in creation without any objection 
from me!” 

“And you have the same freedom?” 

“Naturally. Now let’s get to work. I was sur- 
prised at what you said about the young musician in 
the book. I thought he was so real.” 


278 


BAMBI 


“Strange. That is what the author said, that 
it was a close portrait of a near friend.” 

“What is it, about him, that you do not like.^” 

“Oh, I like him, in a way. But these reformers, 
idealists, thinking they can dream the world into 
Arcadia!” 

Bambi’s clear laugh startled him. 

“ What amuses you so? ” he asked, shortly. 

“I suppose I rather like the idealist type.” 

He looked at her closely. 

“ Good heavens, you don’t think I’m like that, do 
you?” 

“A little,” she admitted. 

“If I thought that I was that particular brand of 
idiot I’d learn bookkeeping and be a clerk,” was the 
reply. 

“Maybe it isn’t you — maybe it is just man I 
recognize.” 

“You can see how terribly clever the woman is — 
to set each of us accusing the other.” 

“She is just a student of types, that’s all,” Bambi 
disparaged the lady. 

So they began their copartnership. The shyness, 
the appeal, the new self-conscious element Bambi 
had sensed in Jarvis gave way to the old mental 


BAMEI 


279 


relationship as fellow workman. They had regular 
oflSce hours, as they called it. They experimented 
to see whether they obtained the best results, when 
they each worked at a scene alone and went over it 
together for the final polishing; or when they actually 
worked on it in unison. Four hours in the morning 
they laboured, took an hour of recess after lunch, 
then two hours more, followed by a tramp off into 
the country, talking play, play, play. 

These were days of keen delight to them both. 
They worked together so smoothly and so well. 
Jarvis’s high-handed superiority had given way to a 
well-grounded respect for Bambi’s quick apprehen- 
sion of a false note, an unnatural line, or a bungled 
climax. 

The first interruption came with the advent of 
Richard Strong to spend the week-end, and Jarvis 
made no comment when Bambi announced his coming 
and declared Saturday a holiday. He even agreed 
to meet their guest at the station. The two men 
came back together in amicable converse. 

“I am so glad you could come, Richard,” Bambi 
greeted him, in her eager way. 

Jarvis started at the Christian name, and flushed 
angrily at Strong’s reply. 


280 


BAMEI 


“Happy New Year, Francesca!” 

Richard and Francesca — so they had gone as far as 
that on the road to intimacy was Jarvis’s hurt com- 
ment to himself. 

After that he watched Strong every minute for 
signs of special devotion, and before the day was 
over he had satisfied himself that these two cared 
deeply for each other. The way Strong’s eyes fol- 
lowed her every movement, the way he anticipated 
her wants, understood her before she spoke — they 
were all damning evidences of the situation. That 
Bambi showed herself grateful, as vividly as she did 
everything else, entirely escaped Jarvis. She loved 
him, that was the truth, and he alone stood between 
her and happiness. 

The two days dragged by, in torment, for him. 
It seemed as if they would never be over, so that 
he might face the truth by himself, with Strong out 
of the picture, and decide what must be done. Bambi 
noticed his strained politeness to their guest, but set 
it down to the same inconsistency he had shown be- 
fore, of being jealous of what he did not especially 
value himself. 

Monday, after Strong’s departure, she began to 
realize that there was a change in him. He was 


BAMBI 


281 


taciturn and moody. The work went badly. He 
disagreed with her at every point, and when she 
suggested that they stop an hour earlier than usual, 
he went off by himself, without asking her to go. 
She began to wonder whether his dislike of Strong 
was really serious and something to be taken cog- 
nizance of. 

Jarvis strode off into the country in a state of 
nerves unknown before. A sleepless night and the 
irritation of the day’s work had played their havoc 
with him. He went over the thing again and again. 
Bambi and Strong loved each other — he stood in the 
way. Why should he not take himself out of the 
situation at once? “ She married me for a whim; she 
will unmarry me the same way,” he reiterated to 
himself. “ Why did she do it, in the first place, unless 
she cared something for me? But she told me she 
had no sentiment for me,” he replied to his other self. 
“It was ambition that made her do it. She thought 
I would be famous. I’ve disappointed her, and she’s 
through with me.” He went over every incident of 
their reunion — his thrill at her welcome. “She 
didn’t really care; it was just her way,” he assured 
himself. 

For hours he plunged through the woods, pursued 


282 


BAMBI 


by his bitter thoughts. When he turned back at last, 
into the garden, he knew that a precious, new-born 
thing, which he had brought back with him after his 
exile, was laid away, never to be allowed to come 
into full flower and maturity. 

His decision was made. He temporized on one 
point. He would stay on until the play was pro- 
duced, so that if it succeeded, as he was determined it 
should, Bambi would have that much satisfaction 
from her matrimonial experiment. Then he would 
let her divorce him, and he would take himself out 
of her life. 

She was in the library when he went in. She 
caught sight of his face, and exclaimed: 

“Jarvis, my dear, how tired you look!” 

He started to go, but she detained him. 

“ Is anything the matter, Jarvis? ” 

“No, what should be the matter? ” 

“I don’t know, but if there is anything you want 
to talk out with me, let’s have it now. We can’t 
afford to have any misunderstandings between us.” 

“There is nothing,” he said, and left the room. 

That night, after dinner, he sat late in his study, 
writing. Two days later the result of the evening’s 
work came to Bambi : 


BAMBI 


283 


“Dear Author Lady: Some days ago I sent 
you my new address, so that you need not send letters 
to the theatre, but so far I have not heard from you. 
To-night, for some reason, I feel moved to write to 
you as I would wish to talk to you were you near me. 

“I say for some reason, and yet I know the reason. 
It is because of your human understanding of the 
things that make men glad or sad. I am beginning 
to know that only through the ache of experience can 
we come to understand each other. Surely there 
must be something of sadness back of your life. Lady 
of Mystery, to give you this power. 

“To-day I have fought out a bitter fight with my- 
self, and I feel the loneliness that comes in a crisis, 
when each man of us must stand or fall, alone. 

“The play goes ahead rapidly. As I told you, 
Mrs. Jocelyn and I have great satisfaction in our 
work on it. I am determined to wring success from 
it. Both for your sake and for mine, I must ! 

“Is this personal letter distasteful to you.^ Do I 
depend too much upon your gracious understanding 
If I do, say so, and I will not offend again. 

“Faithfully, 

“Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

Bambi read this letter over and over again, behind 
the locked door of her bedroom. What did it all 
mean? What was the bitter fight that drove Jarvis 
to this other woman for solace? How far did she dare 
draw him out on it, without offend ng her own sense 
of fitness? Had this innocent plot of hers, to startle 


284 BAMBI 

him into amazed admiration, led them both into a 
labyrinth of misunderstanding? 

She answered Jarvis’s letter and sent it to the 
theatre, asking them to forward it: 

“Dear Mr. Jocelyn: Your letter touched me 
very much in its appeal for my sympathy and under- 
standing. I am regretful that sorrow has found you 
out. I think of you always as young and strong and 
happy, with a young wife, and the world before you. 
I hate to have you spoil my picture. 

“I repeat my satisfaction that you and your wife 
enjoy your work on ‘Francesca.’ I found such 
happiness myself in doing her, that I like to think we 
share the pleasure between us, we three. 

“Is it your own ambition that drives you so that 
you say ‘I must,’ in regard to success? Sometimes, 
if we set our hearts too much on a thing, our very 
determination thwarts us. Is it not so? Perhaps it 
is for the sake of some one else that you are so eager 
for accomplishment. I feel that it is to come to you 
in this play, and I am glad. 

“Be of good cheer. Comrade. Even the memory 
of bitter fights grows dim. I will not think of you 
as daunted by anything life can offer. No, nor death. 
Why have I this confidence in you, I wonder? 

“In all friendliness, 

“The Lady of Mystery.” 

The day this letter came to Jarvis marked a change 
in him to Bambi’s watchful eye. He threw himself 


BAMBI 285 

i 

with renewed ardour into the work. For the first 
time in many days they walked together, and he 
seemed more himself than he had been since Strong’s 
unfortunate visit. Was it the effect of this letter? 
He was beginning to be easily influenced by this sup- 
posed stranger ! The idea was too fantastic. 

“What kind of a woman do you imagine the author 
of ‘Francesca’ to be?” she asked him as they trudged 
along a wintry road. He started a little, she thought. 

“I scarcely know,” he evaded. “I always think 
of her as tall and thin and frail, with a rather sad 
face, white, with humorous gray eyes, and a sensitive 
mouth.” 

“I always think of her as little and fat and cuddly.” 

“ Oh, not cuddly ! ” he protested. 

She laughed. 

“Any news from her lately? ” 

“Yes. I had a letter to-day.” 

“Did you ask if she was coming to rehearsals? ” 

“Not yet.” 

“Haven’t you any curiosity about her? ” 

“In a way, yes. But I respect her desire in the 
matter.” 

“I don’t. If I could get it out of Richard Strong 
who she is, I’d go look her up in a minute.” 


286 


BAMBI 


“Have you tried?” eagerly. 

“ He won’t tell. He’s the King of Clams.” 

“He has no right to tell.” 

“It is very smart of her to work up all this mys- 
tery about herself. No doubt she is a wobbly old 
fatty, instead of the Beatrice you think her.” 

He made no answer, but she saw by his face how 
he resented it. 

A wicked design grew in Bambi’s mind. She 
would make Jarvis Jocelyn fall so desperately and 
hopelessly in love with this dream-woman of his that 
she would be revenged upon him for the way he had 
shut her out since Strong’s visit. It never once 
occurred to her that it was a hurt she had given him 
which drove him to this other woman. But the 
something which he had offered her the night of his 
return he had deliberately withdrawn, before she had 
a chance to accept or refuse it. Well, here was a 
chance to punish him and she would take it. 


XXIII 


ROM the day of her resolve absolute imper- 



sonality characterized their relations during 


work hours. Sometimes they walked to- 
gether; sometimes Bambi went alone or made visits 
to her friends. Jarvis felt more and more her with- 
drawal from him. He attributed it to her increased 
affection for Strong and a consequent abhorrence of 
her husband’s presence. 

One morning she announced that she was going to 
New York for the day. 

“But we were to work on the big climax to-day,” 
Jarvis protested. 

“You work at it. You can do it without me,” she 
said, airily. 

“You are as tired of the play as you are of me,” 
said Jarvis earnestly. 

“Absurd. I am much interested in the play and 
I am not tired of you.” 


“ Shall you see Strong ” 


287 


288 


BAMBI 


“Yes. I shall spend part of the day with him. 
Did you wish to send him a message? ” 

“It wouldn’t be fit for you to carry,” he answered, 
fiercely. 

“Richard is not your favourite companion, is he?” 
she tantalized. 

“He is not!” 

“ Sorry. I am very fond of him.” 

“That does not need saying.” 

“I have never tried to disguise it.” 

“No, I should say you were both frank about it.” 

“Why shouldn’t we be, Jarvis?” said Bambi with 
irritation. 

“ Exactly. Why shouldn’t you be? ” 

“You naturally cannot expect to regulate or choose 
my friends.” 

“ I expect nothing.” 

“Then I would be obliged to you if you made your 
dislike of my friend a trifle less conspicuous.” 

“ If you will let me know when he is expected, I will 
always go elsewhere.” 

It was the first hint of disagreement that had ever 
occurred between them, and Bambi took the train to 
New York with a disagreeable taste in her mouth. 
She was going for a conference with Strong about the 


BAMBI 


289 


book, which had got a splendid start in the holiday 
sales. He had some plans to feature it in various 
conspicuous ways, so that it might advertise the 
play. 

Arrived in Grand Central Station, she wired Jar- 
vis, “Sorry was horrid about Strong,” just to make 
her self-esteem less flat. Then she went to Strong’s 
office. He greeted her in his cordial way, only his 
eyes admitting his joy at sight of her. 

“It is good to see you,” he said. 

“You won’t like me. I’m utterly detestable to- 
day. I was nasty to Jarvis, and cross with Ardelia.” 

“I can’t imagine you either nasty or cross.” 

“Me.^ Oh, I scratch and spit and bite! ” 

“You are the most human person I ever en- 
countered,” he laughed. 

“Be nice to me, and I may cheer up.” 

“I shall try. I have news about the sale of the 
book that ought to cheer a tombstone. I think 
we have a best-seller on our hands.” 

“I’m not a bit ashamed of it.” 

“Why should you be?” 

“Aren’t you a literary pariah, if you’re a best- 
seller?” 

He laughed. 


290 


BAMEI 


“How is the play coming on?” 

“Pretty well, I think. We’re up to the climax of 
the second act. Jarvis is working on it to-day.” 

“Still no suspicion of you?” 

“Not a grain. I think he’s falling in love with 
the author of ‘Francesca,’ though.” 

“How?” 

“Through their letters.” 

“You certainly have a talent for comedy,” he 
laughed, and added, gravely, “I thought Jocelyn had 
always been in love with the author of “Francesca’ ? ” 

“No-o.” 

“I have always known that the author of ‘Fran- 
cesca’ cared about Jarvis.” 

“You must have dreamed that, Richard. Poor old 
Jarvis! Sometimes I think I will confess. Maybe 
I have no right to make game of him this way.” 

“Doesn’t he suspect your style in your letters? 
I would know a letter from you, no matter what the 
circumstances.” 

“Oh, I don’t write like myself. I write like an 
author. I found out what he thought she looked 
like, and I write tall, pale, sensitive-mouthed kind 
of letters, with a hint of sadness.” 

“You imp!” he laughed. 


BAMBI 


291 


“Improves my style. You ought to be glad. 
Let’s hear about the plans for the book.” 

They settled down to discussing advertising plans, 
which kept them busy until late afternoon. When 
the last detail was settled, Bambi rose with a sigh. 

“Wbew! That was a long siege. Like Corp in 
‘Sentimental Tommy,’ it makes me sweat to think.” 

“I should not have kept it up so long. I forget 
you are not used to this drill,” he apologized. 

“I think I’ll live. Remember the first time I 
came to see you?” 

“Perfectly.” 

“Wasn’t I scared?” 

“Were you?” 

“You were so kind and fatherly.” 

“Fatherly?” he said. 

“Wbat lots of things have happened to me since 
then,” she mused. 

“And to me,” said Richard, under his breath. 

“ Heigho ! Life is a bubble.” 

“You’ll feel better after a cup of tea. Wbere shall 
we go?” 

“Let’s walk up to the Plaza.” 

“Done, ” said he, closing his desk. 

It was a cold, crisp day, which stimulated the 


292 BAMBI 

blood like a cocktail. Bambi breathed deep as she 
tried to fall in step with her companion. 

“ I can’t keep step with you. I’m too little and my 
skirt’s too tight.” 

“I’ll keep step with you, my lady.” 

“Mercy, don’t try. Jarvis says I hop along like a 
grasshopper.” 

“I resent that. Your free, swaying walk is one 
of your charms. You always make me think of a 
wind-blown flower.” 

She looked up at him, radiantly. 

“Richard, you say the charmingest things!” 

“Francesca, you do inspire them.” 

“I’m a vain little peacock, and Jarvis never notices 
how I look.” 

“Too bad to mate a peacock and an owl.” 

A brilliant sunset bathed the avenue in a red, gold 
light. The steady procession of motors, taxis, and 
hansom cabs made its slow way uptown. The shop 
windows blazed in their most seductive moments. 
The sidewalks were crowded with smart men; fash- 
ionable women swathed in magnificent furs; slim, 
little pink-cheeked girls. All of them made their 
way up the broad highroad toward home or tea, 
as the case might be. 


BAMBI 


293 


“Oh, you blessed fleshpots, how I adore you!” 

“Referring to the men or the women?” 

“Naughty Richard! I mean all the luxury and 
sensuousness which New York represents.” 

“You hungry little beggar, how you do eat up 
your sensations! ” 

“They give me indigestion sometimes.” 

The foyer of the Plaza was like a reception. The 
tea-room was a-clatter and a-clack with tongues. 

“Like the clatter of sleek little squirrels,” said 
Bambi, as she followed the head-waiter to their table. 

Her comments on people about them, the nick- 
names she donated to them, convulsed Strong. He 
would never again see that pompous head-waiter 
except as “ Papa Pouter ! ” 

“Would you get tired of it if you were here all the 
time?” 

“I suppose so. It is all so alike. The women all 
look alike, and the men, and the waiters. If you 
dropped through the ceiling, you could hardly tell 
whether you were in the Ritz, the Plaza, the Man- 
hattan, or the Knickerbocker. You would know it 
was New York — that’s all.” 

“What train do you take to-night, or shall you 
stay over? ” 


294 


BAMBI 


“I shall go on the 11:50, if you’ll play with me 
until then.” 

He smiled at her affectation. 

“Suppose we try another kind of crowd to-night, 
and dine at the Lafayette.” 

“Delighted! I’ve never been there.” 

“It’s jolly. You’ll like it, I think.” 

“Where is it.^” 

“Way downtown — University Place. What 
shall we do between now and dinner-time.^ ” 

“Let’s walk down.” 

“Oh, that’s a long walk.” 

“But I love to walk, unless it is too much for you.” 

“Sheer impudence!” 

The walk was one never to be forgotten by Strong. 
To have Bambi all to himself, to look forward to 
hours of such bliss, to have her swinging along beside 
him, laughing and chattering, now and again laying 
her hand on his arm in confident friendliness — it 
was intoxicating. 

By sheer force of will he kept his hand on the 
throttle of his emotions. One look, one false move, 
would ruin it all. He knew, without any doubts, 
that she did not love him. He even told himself 
she loved Jocelyn. He knew that he must make 


BAMBI 


295 


himself a valuable friend and not an undesired lover, 
but his want of her was great, and his fury at Jarvis’s 
indifference white hot. She caught his set look. 

“Richard!” 

He turned his eyes on her. 

“ You’re tired of me. I won’t talk any more.” 

He drew her hand through his arm, and held her 
there. 

“Don’t say that sort of thing, please; it isn’t fair.” 

“Take it back.” 

The Lafayette filled her with excitement. They 
had a table on a raised balcony overlooking the main 
dining-room. Richard pointed out celebrities, bowed 
to many friends, talked charming personalities. A 
feast of Lucullus was served them. Music and wine 
and excitement bewitched Bambi. She sparkled 
and laughed. She capped his every sally with a 
quick retort. She was totally different from the 
girl-boy who had walked downtown beside him. 

“What are you thinking about me.^” she chal- 
lenged him, her head tipped back provokingly. 

“Daughter of Joy!” 

“I have spent a very pleasant fortnight with you, 
Richard!” 


“Has it seemed that long?” 


296 


BAMBI 


“Since I left Sunnyside this morning? Quite.” 

“How many personalities have you been since 
then?” 

“Oh, not nearly all my mes.” 

“Protean artist?” 

“Headliner,” she nodded. 

They drank to the success of the play. Later, as 
he stood beside her in the car, a few minutes before 
she was to leave, she put her hand in his. 

“I’ve had the loveliest time,” she said. “You are 
the most accomplished playmate I ever had.” 

“It has been a happy day.” 

“ Come to Sunnyside soon.” 

The train began to move out and he hurried to get 
off. She waved to him from the window. She was 
tired, so she went to bed at once, with never a dream 
of the emptiness her small presence left in New York 
for the “Playmate.” 


XXIV 


W HAT luck did you have with the climax, 
yesterday?” she asked Jarvis, next day, 
as she came into the workroom. 

“None at all. I worked all day, and tore it up 
last night.” 

“Oh, why did you do that?” 

“It was hopeless. If you wanted to teach me how 
vital you are to this work, you did it.” 

“Such a thing never entered my mind.” 

“Shall we begin at it now?” 

“Of course. I’m keen to get at it.” 

She plunged into the situation and swept all ob- 
stacles before her. The entire reaction from yes- 
terday’s pleasure and change went into her work. 
Lunch-time came as a shock, the morning had fled 
so fast. Jarvis sighed as he piled up the pages. 
“You work like an electric dynamo,” he remarked. 
“I always work better after a happy vacation. 

% 

Why don’t you run off for a day, to get your breath, 
as it were?” 


297 


298 


BAMBI 


“Where would I run to?” 

“You might go look up the author-lady you’re so 
interested in,” she remarked, wickedly. 

He made no answer to that. 

The noon mail brought Bambi’s latest letter 
from Jarvis. All mail was brought immediately to 
her, so she had a chance to extract the telltale let- 
ters. Jarvis wrote: 

“Dear Lady: Your letters are fast becoming a 
necessity to me. I look for them as eagerly as a 
boy. I find myself more and more absorbed in the 
‘Francesca’ of your fancy, whom I feel sure is the 
essence of you. Is it not so? 

“I am bitterly unhappy these days — lonely, as 
I have never been before. The emotional side of 
life has always been a closed book to me, one I dis- 
dained to read. So once my heart begins to call 
attention to itself, I suppose the more poignant will 
be my experience. 

“I have lately come back from a long exile spent 
in a hideous place. I brought with me the first 
hunger for love I had ever known. But I found no 
answering need in the heart I turned to. I have 
been thrown back on myself, to eat my heart out, 
because I know now that it is my own fault. If I 
had tried sooner to make myself a lover, I would not 
have to resign that place to another man. 

“Why do I pour these personal sorrows upon you, 
my Lady of Sympathy? I am heartsick for comfort. 

“Yours, “J.” 


BAMBI 299 

Bambi laid her cheek against the poor, hurt letter, 
and cried. 

“My poor, bungling Jarvis, how I must have hurt 
you!’’ 

She read it again, and all at once light flooded in. 

“Why, it’s Richard, of course! He thinks I am in 
love with Richard! The dear old goose! He sees 
so little and sees that crooked.” 

She went in search of him, determined to tell the 
whole foolish story, to explain the imaginary obstacles 
that divided them. But he was not to be found, so 
the impulse died, and she determined to play the farce 
out to its end, and now, that she knew the core of 
the whole situation, she could make it count for their 
final readjustment. 

She wrote him at once: 

“My Dear Jarvis: At last I feel that there is 
truth between us. I have suspected that you were 
not happy in your love life. But I wanted not to 
pry into locked chambers. Now we can be glad of 
the bond that lies between us, for I, too, go heart 
hungry through the days. 

“I have not spoken to you of my home, or my 
husband, but now that you have become such a part 
of my thought life, I feel no disloyalty in the truth. 

“My husband is a man who has never felt the 
want of affection. He is so self-centred in his de- 


soo 


BAMBI 


votion to his work that I have always been shut out 
of his heart. At first this did not trouble me, for 
I was ambitious, too. But so many things have 
happened to develop me this last year, to awaken me 
to my full womanhood 1 

“I have had to face, as you do, the ache of an 
unwanted love, tossed back to eat its way like a cor- 
rosive acid. Once, not long ago, I thought, per- 
haps, things were going to change for me. I thought 
he wanted me. But now I have come to know that it 
is to another woman he turns for sympathy and under- 
standing. 

“So, you see, my dear, we two have the same heart 
history. No wonder we have felt our way through 
time and space, to clasp hands in such deep affinity. 
I lay my hands upon your head, Jarvis. 

“Your Lady.” 


His reply came by the first mail. 

“Oh, my dear, my dear, we have found each other 
at last, in all truth. It was meant from the begin- 
ning of time that it should be so. Let me come to 
you. I cannot bear to live another hour without 
the touch of your hand. To think that I do not 
know your name, or the colour of your kind eyes! 
Say that I may come? 

“ Devotedly, 

“Jarvis.” 

“Jarvis, My Big Boy: You may not come yet. It 
is part of a dream, cherished since you came to be 
the heart of me, that we should not come together 


BAMBI 


301 


until the night of the opening of our play. I know 
you will poohpooh this as sentimental nonsense. 
You may even call it theatrical. But let me have 
my way, this last one time. Afterward, my way 
shall be yours, beloved. Write me to say you will 
be patient with my foolishness ! 

“I am afraid of our meeting. Suppose I should 
fall short of your ideal of me.^ That you should 
think me ugly or old, I could not bear it. I have 
come to know all my happiness lies in the balance of 
that one night, toward which we walk, you and I, 
every minute of every day. 

“Your Lady.” 

His answer came, special delivery : 

“It shall be as you wish, dear heart. But if any- 
thing should happen to delay the opening of the play, 
I think I should ask you to remit the sentence of 
banishment. I live only to look into your eyes! 

“How can you say that you may disappoint me.^ 
If you were old, humpbacked, ugly — what differ- 
ence.? You are mine! We must find freedom for 
ourselves and a new life. I adore you. 

“Jarvis.” 

“I wouldn’t have thought it of Jarvis,” said 
Bambi as she read it. “He makes a very creditable 
lover.” 

“My Dear One: I am as impatient as you are 
for our meeting. I gladly agree that we shall bring 


S02 BAMEI 

it about, at once, if anything happens to postpone^ 
the play opening. 

“What you say about being indifferent to my 
looks makes me happy. I shall not try you too far, 
my lover. I’m quite pretty and young. Did you 
know I was young 

“You speak so confidently of freedom and a new 
life together. Are we to shed our old mates, like 
Nautilus shells.^ My new coming into love makes 
me pitiful. Must we be ruthless.^ 

“Your Own.” 

“Dear, Gentle Heart: I do not wish to seem 
ruthless to you, much less to be so. But has our 
suffering not entitled us to some joy.^ I know my 
wife to be absorbed in another man; you say your 
husband turns to another woman. W’^e represent 
to them stumbling-blocks between them and their 
happiness. Surely it is only right that we should all 
be freed to find our true mates. 

“I find it daily more of a burden to carry this 
secret in my heart, when knowledge of it would lighten 
my wife’s unhappiness. Shall we not confess the 
situation, and discuss plans for separation I owe 
this girl who bears my name more than I can ever 
pay. I would not do anything to hurt her pride. 
Tell me what you think about it, dear one? 

“Your Jarvis.” 

“Jarvis Dear: Again I must seem to oppose you. 
Please let us keep our secrets to ourselves until 
our meeting. Suppose that something should hap- 
pen even yet? Suppose we should not wish to take 


BAMBI 


303 


this step when the time comes? I do not want you 
to hurt your wife. I respect and love you for your 
sense of obligation to her. How can she help loving 
you, my Jarvis? 

“ When the day comes for me to prove my devotion, 
may you say about me that you owe me more than 
you can ever pay. 

“I live only for the completion of the play. 

“Your Love.” 


XXV 


B AMBI felt the renewed vigour with which 
Jarvis attacked the final problems of their 
task. He was working toward the goal of 
his affections, a meeting with his lady. She* too, 
felt the strain of the situation, and keyed herself 
up to a final burst of speed. The middle of Febru- 
ary came, bringing the day which ended their 
labours. 

“Well, I believe that is the best we can do with it,” 
Jarvis said. 

“Yes, our best best. For my part, I feel quite 
fatuously satisfied. I think it is perfectly charming.” 

“I hope the author will be pleased,” he said earn- 
estly. 

“I’m much more concerned with Mr. Frohman’s 
satisfaction. If he likes it, hang the author ! ” 

“But I want to please her more than I can say.” 
“You have a great interest in that woman, Jarvis. 
What is it about her that has caught your attention? ” 
“It is difl&cult to say. As I have grown into her 

304 


BAMBI 


305 


book, so that it has become a part of my thought, I 
have been more and more absorbed in the personality 
of the woman.” 

“You told me the heroine was like me — once.” 

“Did 1 ?” in surprise. 

“You’ve changed your mind, evidently?” 

“ No-o. Her brilliance is like you.” 

“But not her other qualities? ” 

“She seems softer, more appealingly feminine to 
me, than you do. You have so much more executive 
ability ” 

“You think I’m not feminine? ” 

“I didn’t say that,” he evaded. 

“Why do you insist upon thinking the author and 
heroine to be one person?” 

“Just a fancy, I suppose. But the book is so inti- 
mate that I feel consciously, or otherwise, the woman 
has written herself into ‘ Francesca.’ ” 

“You may be approaching an awful shock, my dear 
Jarvis, when you meet her.” 

“I'think not.” 

“ These author folk ! She’ll be a middle-aged dowd, 
mark my words.” 

He rose indignantly, and put the last sheets of the 
manuscript away. She watched him, smiling. 


306 


BAMBI 


“ Shall you go to New York to-morrow? ” 

“Yes, if I can get an appointment by wire. I am 
going to see about it now.” 

“I do hope he will be sensible enough to put it on 
right away.” 

“He told me to rush it. I think he means an 
immediate production.” 

“The end of our work together,” mused Bambi. 

He turned to her quickly. 

“You care?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“It has really been your work, Bambi.” 

It was her turn to be startled, but evidently he had 
no ulterior meaning. 

“Not at all. I think it is wonderful how well we 
work together, considering ” 

“ Considering? ” he insisted. 

“Oh, our difference in point of view, and, oh, 
everything!” she added. 

“It would disappoint you if it were our last work 
together?” 

“What an idea, Jarvis! I look forward to years 
and years of annual success by the Jocelyns.” 

He frowned uncomfortably, as if to speak, thought 
better of it, and kept silence. 


BAMBI 


307 


“I’ll go send my wire,” he said. 

She kissed her finger tips to his receding back. 

Later, too, she went to the telegraph oflSice and sent 
the following wire. 

Mr, Charles Frohman: 

“See Jarvis, if possible, to-morrow. Play finished. 
Sure success. 

“Francesca Jocelyn.” 

The secretary answered Jarvis’s wire at once, mak- 
ing the appointment at eleven o’clock on the morrow. 

“It seems incredible that anything could run as 
smoothly as this for me,” said Jarvis, as he read the 
dispatch. 

“That’s because I’m in it,” boasted Bambi, with a 
touch of her old impudence. “I’m your mascot.” 

“That must be it.” 

“It means a midnight train for you, to make it 
comfortably. Do you suppose you will stay more 
than a day?” 

“ I should think not. I don’t know.” 

Ardelia came in with a yellow envelope. 

“Sumpin’ doin’ roun’ dis heah house. Telegram 
boy des’ a-ringin’ at de’ do’ bell stiddy.” 

“For me?” said Bambi. 


308 


BAMBI 


Jarvis Jocelyn, Sunny side, New York, 

“Mr. Frohman will see you at three o’clock to- 
morrow.” 

Bambi gazed at it a moment, a bit dazed, then she 
laughed. 

“Anything the matter.^ ” Jarvis inquired. 

“No-o. Oh, no.” 

This was how it happened that Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn 
took the midnight train to New York, while Mrs. 
Jarvis Jocelyn followed on an early morning one. 

“But why, if you both have to go to that city of 
abominations, do you not go together.^” inquired the 
Professor. 

“ Part of the secret,” she reminded him. 

“Dear me, I had forgotten we were living in a plot. 
How is it coming out? ” 

“I will know to-day, definitely, just how, when, 
and where it is coming out.” 

Jarvis presented himseK at the theatre at eleven 
sharp, and felt a thrill of righteous pride when he was 
ushered into the private office without delay. His 
vow that he would enter without so much as a calling- 
card had come true sooner than he had hoped. 

Mr. Frohman smiled in his friendly way, and 
shook hands. 


BAMBI 


309 


“How’s my friend, the ex-Jehu?” he laughed. 

“ Fine ! I hope you are well.” 

“ I’m all right. How’s the play? ” 

“ I have it here. It is good.” 

“ Good, is it? ” Mr. Frohman’s eyes twinkled. 

“Yes. My — Mrs. Jocelyn worked at it with me, 
and I have to admit that the success, if it is one, is 
largely due to her.” 

“ She is a writer, too? ” 

“No, but she has a keen dramatic sense. She 
understands character, too.” 

“So? Lucky for you. Does she want her name 
on the bills?” 

“She has never spoken of it, but I wish her to go 
on as co-dramatist.” 

“All right. Clever wife is an asset. Now we’ve 
got just two hours. Go ahead — read me what 
you’ve got there.” 

Jarvis unpacked the manuscript and began. He 
had worked over the scenes so often with Bambi 
that he fell into her dramatic way of “doing” the 
scenes. Once or twice the manager chuckled as he 
recognized her touch and intonation on a line. Cer- 
tainly Jarvis had never read so well. He was en- 
couraged by frequent laughs from his audience. 


310 


BAMBI 


There were interruptions now and then, criticisms 
and suggestions. As he read and laid down the last 
page, Mr. Frohman nodded his head. 

“Pretty clever work for amateurs,’’ he said. 

“ You think it will go? ” 

“With some changes and rearrangements. Yes, 
I should say so.” 

“Are you thinking of producing it soon? ” 

“Yes, if I can make satisfactory arrangements with 
the author I’ll put it in rehearsal right away.” 

“ I think the author will be satisfied.” 

The manager looked a question. 

“We have been corresponding during my work on 
it,” Jarvis explained. 

Mr. Frohman stared, then laughed. 

“We can soon find out whether she’s pleased. She 
is due here at three o’clock to-day.” 

“She is coming here to-day? ” Jarvis exclaimed. 

“Yes.” 

“ Could I talk to her then — there is so much ” 

“Sorry. I promised there would be no one here. 
Some crazy idea about keeping her name a secret.” 

“Of course. I would not intrude,” said Jarvis, 
hastily. “She wrote me that she would leave re- 
hearsals to you and me.” 


BAMBI 311 

“Did she? Will your wife want to come to re- 
hearsals?” 

“ I think so. Would there be any objections? ” 

“Not if she is co-author.” 

“ She is very clever.” 

“ I don’t doubt it. You leave that copy here. I’ll 
go over it, in part, with the author, and let her take it 
to look over. I will wire you what day I want to get 
the company together for a reading.” 

“All right, sir.” 

“If the author is satisfied with this. I’ll have a 
contract made out to submit to you and your wife. 
In the meantime, do you want an advance?” 

“No, thanks.” 

“All right. You’ll hear from me. You’ve done sur- 
prisingly well with this, Jocelyn — you, or your wife.” 

“Thank you. Good-day.” 

“Good-day.” 

At three o’clock the other member of the Jocelyn 
family arrived. 

“You are good to see me. I would have burst with 
curiosity before Jarvis got back,” she began the 
minute she got inside the door. 

“I naturally wanted to consult the author before I 
accepted the play.” 


312 


BAMBI 


“ Is it any good? Are you going to take it? ” 

“ What do you think about it? Are you satisfied?” 

“ Yes. I think it’s a love of a play.” 

He laughed. 

“How much of it did Jarvis do? ” 

“ Oh, a great deal ! ” 

“Not enough to spoil it, eh? ” 

“He has worked very hard,” she said seriously. 

“He tells me he has corresponded with the author 
during his work, and he begged to be here for this 
meeting.” 

“Did he? Bless his heart! It has been so funny 
— that correspondence! He’s crazy about that 
author-lady.” 

“Either you are very clever, or he’s very stupid, 
which is it? ” 

“Both.” 

“ When are you going to tell him the truth ? ” 

“The opening night.” 

“Upon my word, you have got a dramatic sense. 
Blaze of success, outbursts of applause, husband finds 
wife is the centre and cause of it. That sort of thing, 
eh?” 

“Yes, but don’t say it like that. It sounds silly 
and cheap.” 


BAMBI 


313 


“Husband will be mad as fury at the whole thing.” 

“You don’t think that, do you? That would spoil 
the whole thing so entirely,” she said in concern. 

“You’re the dramatist, I’m only the manager,” he 
laughed. 

They talked about the cast, the sets, and other 
practical details. 

“You’re coming to rehearsals, aren’t you?” he 
asked her. 

“Rather!” 

“Jarvis prepared me for that.” 

“Did he? Well, he won’t be much good. He 
can’t act.” 

“I told him you would look over the play, then I 
would call the company together for a reading.” 

“ Consider the script looked over. Do call it quick, 
Mr. Frohman; I can hardly wait.” 

“What about contracts? Do you want one as 
author, with another to you and Jarvis as play- 
wrights?” 

“No, that’s too complicated. Let’s have one for 
the whole thing, then we can divvy up what there is.” 

“Suits me. I’ll see you next week, then. Better 
make arrangements to stay in town during rehears- 
als/' 


314 


BAMBI 


“Oh, yes, we will.” 

“I think we will pull off a success. This is very 
human, this stuff. Good-bye.” 

“You’ve been such a dear. We’ve just got to 
succeed for your sake. Good-bye, and thanks.” 


XXVI 


B AMBI hurried to catch the 5:30 train for 
home, and as it rushed through the station 
she spied Jarvis striding on ahead, evidently 
bound for the same train. With the caution of a lady 
detective she kept behind him until he got aboard. 
Then she rushed ahead and got into the first car. At 
Sunnyside she astonished the town hackman by leap- 
ing into his cab and ordering him to drive her home, 
top speed. 

The situation appealed to her taste for intrigue. 
Into the house she sped and to her room. The Pro- 
fessor and Ardelia were in bed and asleep. When 
Jarvis came in she descended, to inquire about the 
fate of their play, with the calm of a finished actress. 
“ I’m waiting for you ! What news? ” she demanded. 
“He likes it. If the author is satisfied, we go 
ahead at once.” 

“Hooray!” shouted Bambi, pirouetting madly. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis Jocelyn, the talk of the town,” 
she sang. 


315 


316 


BAMBI 


“ You did want your name on the bills, then? ” 

She stopped in alarm. Had she given it away 
after all her trouble? 

“How do you mean on the bills? ” 

“As co-author? Mr. Frohman asked me. I told 
him you had never spoken of it, but that I wanted 
you to have full credit.” 

What else did you tell Mr. Frohman about me?” 
told him you were clever.” 

'“What did he say? ” she laughed. 

“Said he didn’t doubt it. He will allow you to 
come to rehearsals.” 

“ I should hope so ! So it’s all settled?” 

“Yes, if the author consents. She was to see the 
play at three this afternoon.” 

“Was she? Why didn’t you wait and see her? ” 

“She wished to talk to Mr. Frohman alone.” 

“Isn’t she tiresome, with all her mystery? You 
don’t think she could hold us up on it now, at the last 
minute, do you? ” 

“ She could, but I don’t think she will. Rehearsals 
will be called next week.” 

“ Oh, goody ! Jarvis, aren’t you happy about it? ” 

“Yes.” 

“But you aren’t happy enough ! ” 


BAMEI 


317 


He sighed. It was all so different from the way he 
had planned to bring her his first success. 

“Something seems to have gone amiss with us, 
doesn’t it, Bambi?” 

“I haven’t noticed it.” 

“You’re satisfied to go on as we are now? ” 

“I can think of a few improvements. I’ll tell you 
about them later.” 

“So many things seem to hinge on the success of 
this play!” 

“They do! May the gods take notice,” she 
laughed. 

On the following Tuesday came the call for a read- 
ing of the play with the company, Wednesday, at 
eleven. Bambi was as excited as a child over the 
announcement. 

“I think we had better plan to stay at the National 
Arts Club again, during rehearsals, Jarvis.” 

“I am not sure I can finance that. I told Mr. 
Frohman I did not need an advance.” 

“I’ve got some left. You can borrow back the 
hundred you paid me, to start off on.” 

“You’re like the old woman with the magic purse.” 

“I’m thrifty and saving.” 

“ Well, if we can accomplish it without robbing you 


318 BAMEI 

I agree with you that it would be better to stay in 
town.” 

“Settled. You go pack your things, and I’ll look 
after mine.” ^ 

They prepared to make their second pilgrimage, 
this time to the “Land of Promise.” 

The Professor showed an unusual amount of in- 
terest in the matter. 

“How long will it take to rehearse it? ” he asked. 

“We don’t know yet, we’re such amateurs. But 
as soon as we know the date set for the opening you 
and Ardelia are to prepare to come. You can come 
up the day of the performance, and if you can’t stand 
it, you may come home the next day.” 

“A trip to New York? What an upsetting idea! ” 

“Would you rather stay here, and miss the first 
play Jarvis and I ever did together?” said Bambi> 
disappointedly. 

“No, certainly not. I’ll come. Just make a note 
of it, and put it in a conspicuous place,” he added. 

“We’ll keep you reminded, never fear.” 

Ardelia gasped when she heard she was to go. 

“I’ll send you a list of the clothes to bring for the 
Professor in plenty of time. I shall give you a new 
black silk dress for the occasion.” 


BAMBI 


319 


“Lawd a’ massy. Miss Bambi! I’se so excited I 
cain’t talk. A noo silk dress an’ a-goin’ to Noo Yawk 
wid de P erf essor. I decla’ dey ain’t no niggah woman 
in dis heah town got sech quality to work fo’ as dis 
old niggah has.” 

“Why, Ardelia, we couldn’t have it without you.” 

“Am I gwine sit wid de’ white folks in de’ theatre, 
or up in niggah heaven.^ ” 

“You’ll sit in a box with the rest of us.” 

“ Gawd-a’mighty, honey, dis gwine to be de hap- 
pies’ ’casion ob my life.” 

The co-authors took the night train. 

“Not quite a year ago since our first journey 
together,” said Bambi. 

“That’s so. It seems a century, doesn’t it ” 

“That is a distinctly husband remark.” 

“I was only thinking of how much had happened 
in that time.” 

“Two new beings have happened — a new you 
and a new me,” she answered him. 

“Are you as changed as I am ? ” he asked. 

“Yes. You haven’t noticed me enough to realize 
it, I suppose.” 

He made no reply to that. Arrived in New York, 
they went to the clubhouse, and took the same rooms 


320 


BAMBI 


they had before. As Bambi looked about the room, 
she turned to Jarvis in the doorway: 

“It is a century since I knelt at that window and 
arranged our spectacular success.” 

“Well, we’re a year nearer to it. Let’s get a good 
night’s rest, for to-morrow we enter on a new chap- 
ter.” 

“ It’s jolly we enter it together, isn’t it,- Jarvis.^ ” 

He nodded, embarrassed. 

“I should like to wish you luck in the new venture, 
Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

“I wish you the same. Miss Mite,” he said, clasp- 
ing her hand warmly. 

“You haven’t called me Miss Mite for a longtime,” 
she said, softly. “ I like it.” 

“Good-night,” said Jarvis abruptly, and left. 

“You’re a poor actor, my Jarvis,” she chuckled to 
herself. 

At eleven o’clock they presented themselves at the 
theatre. The reading was to take place in Mr. Froh- 
man’s big room. Jarvis and Bambi were admitted 
at once. 

“Good-morning,” said Mr. Frohman. 

“Good-morning. This is Mrs. Jocelyn, Mr. Froh- 
man.” 


BAMBI 


321 


Bambi offered her hand to the manager with a 
solemn face, but the laugh twinkled in her eyes. 

“How do you do, Mrs. Jocelyn? I understand 
that you had a great deal to do with this play? ’’ 

“I did,” she admitted. “Without me this play 
would have been nothing.” 

“This leaves you no ground to stand on, Mr. Joce- 
lyn,” he laughed. 

The members of the company arrived and were 
presented to the authors. Bambi kept them all 
laughing until Mr. Frohman called order. They 
sat in state around the big table. 

“I propose that Mrs. Jocelyn read us the play,” 
Mr. Frohman said. 

“Oh, shall I? It is really Jarvis ” 

“If you please,” said Mr. Frohman, indicating a 
chair. 

So Bambi began, with a smile at Jarvis, and an- 
other at the audience. They all felt in a good hu- 
mour. The play was so peculiarly hers, the intimate 
quality which had made the book “go” had been 
wonderfully retained, so that spontaneous laughter 
marked her progress through the comedy. It was 
all so true and universal, the characters so well 
drawn, the denouement so happy! At the climax 


BAMBI 

of the third act the company broke into irresistible 
and unpremeditated applause. 

“Oh, God bless you for that!” said Bambi, her 
eyes wet with gratitude. 

“We ought to cast you for the girl. You are 
enough like her to have sat for the portrait,” said 
Mr. Frohman, wickedly. 

Jarvis turned to look at Bambi in his earnest way. 
He marked the likeness, again, himself. 

“I shall play it just as you read it, Mrs. Jocelyn,” 
said the girl who was cast for the lead. 

“You will greatly improve on my Francesca, I’m 
sure,” Bambi nodded to her. 

Parts were distributed, much discussion followed 
as to character drawing and business, then they 
separated to meet for rehearsal the next day at 
10:30. Mr. Frohman had an immediate appoint- 
ment, so the Jocelyns had no opportunity for a word 
in private. 

“Queer that Mr. Frohman should think that you 
are like Francesca, too,” said Jarvis, on their way to 
the club. 

“Oh, I don’t know. We are the same type. 
That’s all.” 

“You could play the part wonderfully.” 


BAMBI 


323 


“Could I? It would be fun! Still, I think we 
can make more money and have more fun writing 
plays.” 

She seemed always to be harping on their future 
together ! 

The next day was full of surprises for them both. 
They were entirely ignorant of conditions in and 
about the theatre. The big, dark house, with its 
seats all swathed in linen covers, the empty, barn- 
like stage, with chairs set about to indicate proper- 
ties; the stage hands coming and going, the stage 
manager shouting directions — it was all new to 
them. The members of the company were as busi- 
nesslike as bank clerks. No hint of illusion, no 
scrap of romance 1 

“Mercy! it’s like a ghost house,” said Bambi. 

A deal table was set at one side, down stage, for 
the Jocelyns, with two scripts of the play. They 
sat down like frightened school children, bewildered 
as to what would be expected of them. 

The actors sat in a row of chairs at one side. The 
stage manager made some explanations and remarks 
about rehearsals, and then the first act was called. 
It was slow and tedious work. Over and over 
again the scenes were tried. Some of the actors 


S24 


BAMBI 


fumbled their lines as if they had never read English 
before. Now and then the manager appealed to 
the authors for the reading of a line, or an intonation, 
and Bambi always answered. At the end of one 
scene the man who was to play the young musician 
came to them. 

“I’ve been thinking over my part, Mrs. Jocelyn, 
and I think that if you could write in a scene right 
here, in act first, to let me explain to the old fiddler 
my reason for being in this situation ” 

“Oh, no, you mustn’t explain. The whole point 
of the first act is that you explain nothing.” 

“Yes, but it would play better,” he began, in the 
patronizing tone always used to newcomers in the 
theatre. 

“I can’t help that. I cannot spoil the truth of a 
whole character, even if it does play better,” said 
Bambi, smiling sweetly. 

The actor took it up with the stage manager 
after rehearsal, and was referred to the authors. 

“These new playwrights always have to learn at 
our expense,” he said, importantly. 

“Can’t be helped. We have to use playwrights, 
however irritating they are,” remarked the stage 
manager. 


BAMBI 


325 


Day after day they assembled at the same hour 
and slowly built up the structure of the play. Many 
nights Jarvis and Bambi worked on new scenes, or 
the rearrangement of the old ones. The first act was 
twisted about many times before it “played” to the 
stage manager’s satisfaction. New lines had to be 
introduced, new business worked out every day. It 
was hard work for everybody except Bambi, and she 
declared it was fun. No matter how trying the 
rehearsals, nor how hard she had to work, she en- 
joyed every minute of it. They soon discovered 
that Jarvis had no talent for rehearsing. In fact, 
the mechanics of the thing bored him. When a new 
scene was demanded quickly, his mind refused to 
work. It was Bambi’s quick wits that saved the 
day. After the first few days she was the only one 
to be consulted and appealed to by everybody. 

“I can’t see that you need me at all in this busi- 
ness. I’m no good at it.” 

“Yes, you are, too. You saw where that new 
scene in the third act belonged at once.” 

“Yes, after you wrote the scene.” 

“But this is why we need each other. I didn’t 
see where the scene belonged at all. If we both 
could do the same thing, we wouldn’t need to collab- 


326 BAMBI 

orate. Thank heaven, we don’t have the author 
underfoot interfering all the time.” 

“I don’t believe she would interfere.” 

“Heard anything from her, lately?” 

“No, she is waiting for the production, I suppose.” 

“And then the deluge! I may lose you to that 
story- writing female yet!” she teased him. 

“Don’t!” he protested, quickly. 

“I won’t,” she retorted, meaningly. 

In late March the date of the production was 
set. It gave Bambi unbelievable pleasure to read 
the announcements on the billboards, and to stand 
in front of the three-sheets in the foyer of the theatre. 

She wrote Ardelia full directions in regard to 
packing the Professor’s dress clothes; she told her 
the train they were to take; she worked out every 
detail, so that nothing might be left to the sievelike 
memories of the principals on this foreign journey. 

She ordered a new frock for herself, and succeeded 
in getting Jarvis measured for new dress clothes. 
Then she threw herself, heart and soul, into the last 
few days of work at the theatre, helping to polish 
and strengthen the play. The night of dress re- 
hearsal came, and with it a new development for her 
consideration and management. 


XXVII 


D ress rehearsal was called at midnight, as 
two of the principals were playing in other 
theatres. There was an air of suspense 
and confusion on the stage, where the new sets were 
being put on, which threw Jarvis into a cold sweat 
of terror. It only added one degree to Bambi’s 
mounting excitement. She and Jarvis made their 
way to the front of the house, where Mr. Frohman, 
the leader of the orchestra, and a few other people 
interested in the production were assembled. 

“I never realized before how many people, how 
much work and money and brain go into the pro- 
duction of the simplest comedy for one night’s 
amusement,” she said to Mr. Frohman. 

“And yet managers are always blamed because 
they don’t take more chances on new playwrights,” 
he smiled. 

“Jarvis looks as if he were walking to the guillo- 
tine, doesn’t he?” 


327 


328 


BAMBI 


“It is a strain, isn’t it, Jocelyn? You get used 
to it after a few first-nights.” 

Jarvis nodded, wetting his dry lips with a nervous 
tongue. 

The curtain went down and came up. The first 
act began. Bambi scarcely breathed. Jarvis could 
be heard all over the house. The first part of the 
act hitched along and had to be repeated; the stage 
manager came out and scolded, while Mr. Frohman 
called directions from the front. Bambi turned to 
Jarvis. 

“It’s going to be a failure,” she said. 

“Oh, don’t say that!” he fairly groaned. 

“Don’t be discouraged!” said Mr. Frohman, not- 
ing their despairing looks. “Dress rehearsals are 
usually the limit.” 

“But it can’t go like this, and succeed,” Bambi 
wailed. 

“Don’t you worry. It won’t go like this.” 

The night wore on, miserably, for the authors. 
Everything had to be done over — lines were for- 
gotten — everybody was in a nervous stew. 

“The awful part of it is that we’ve done all we 
can do,” moaned Bambi. “If they ruin it, we can’t 
prevent them.” 


BAMBI 


329 


“We’ll make them rehearse all day to-morrow,” 
said Jarvis, fiercely. “They were better than this 
two weeks ago.” 

The end of the agony finally came. The stage 
manager assembled the weary company and gave 
them a few select and sarcastic remarks as to their 
single and collective failure. Mr. Frohman added 
a few words, and ordered them all to dismiss the play 
from their minds until the morrow night. Bambi tried 
to say a word of encouragement and thanks to them, 
but in the midst of it she broke down and wept. 

“Take her home and keep her in bed to-morrow, 
Jocelyn,” Mr. Frohman said. 

Jarvis hurried her into a cab, and she sobbed 
softly all the way home. He made no effort to touch 
her or comfort her; he was in torment himself. At 
the club he ordered eggnog and sandwiches sent 
to her room, whither he followed her, helpless to 
cope with her tears. 

She threw her things off and bathed her eyes, while 
he set out the table for the food. When the boy 
appeared with it, Jarvis led her to her chair and 
served her. She smiled mistily at him. 

“ It’s nerves and excitement and overwork,” she 
explained. He nodded. 


330 


BAMBI 


“If it failed now, it would be too awful,” he said. 

“Don’t say that word; don’t even think it!” she 
cried. 

“You mustn’t care so much,” he begged her. 

“Don’t you care?” 

“Of course, more than you know. But I am pre- 
pared for failure, if it comes.” 

“I can’t be prepared for it. It cannot happen!” 
she sobbed. 

He stood looking down at her helplessly. 

“What can I do for you? What is it you want?” 
he demanded gently. 

“I want to be rocked,” she sobbed. 

“To be ” 

She pushed him into a big chair, and climbed into 
his arms. 

“Rocked,” she finished. 

He held her a minute closely, then he rose and set 
her down. 

“I can’t do it,” he began. “I have something to 
tell you that must be said ” 

“Not to-night, Jarvis, I’m too tired.” 

“Yes, to-night, before another hour passes. Sit 
down there, please.” 

She obeyed, curiously. 


BAMBI 331 

“Do you remember Christmas Eve, when I came 
home?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you notice anything different about me?” 

“How, different?” 

“Did it occur to you that I cared about you, for 
the first time?” 

“I — I — suspicioned it a little.” 

“Then you deliberately ignored it because you 
did not want my love?” 

“I — I — didn’t mean to ignore it.” 

“But you did.” 

“I wasn’t sure; you never spoke of it, never said 
you cared. After that first night I thought I must 
have been mistaken.” 

“But you were glad to be mistaken?” 

“No. I was sorry,” she said, softly. 

“What?” sharply. 

“I wanted your love, Jarvis.” 

“You can’t mean that.” 

“But I do!” 

“But, Strong — you love Strong ” 

She rose quickly, her face flushed . 

“I love Richard Strong as my friend, and in no 
other way.” 


3S2 


BAMBI 


‘‘Certainly he loves you/’ 

“He has never told me so.” 

“You let me believe you cared for him; you tor- 
tured me with your show of preference for him.” 

“You imagined that, Jarvis. It is not true! ” 

“It is true!” he cried, passionately. “I came to 
you, eager for your love, wanting you as I had never 
wanted anything. You flaunted this man in my 
face, you shut me out, you drove me back on my- 
self ” 

“Well.?'” 

“What did you expect me to do? Endure for- 
ever in silence?” 

‘ ‘ What did you do ? Or what do you mean to do ? ” 

“I have come to care for a woman who under- 
stands me ” 

“A woman, Jarvis?” 

“The woman who wrote ‘Francesca.’ I cared 
first because she had put into her heroine so many 
things that were like you.” 

“Well?” she said again. 

“She has come to care for me. I wanted to tell 
you so long ago, when we first knew, but she begged 
me not to until after the play was tried out. But 
I can’t stand it another minute. There must be 


BAMBI 


333 


truth between us, Bambi. I want you to read her 
letters. I want you to try to understand how this has 
crept into my heart.” 

“You wish to be free - — to go to her.^ ” 

“There is no happiness for us, is there?” 

“I’m too tired to think it out now, Jarvis. You 
must go away and let me get myself together.” 

She looked like a pitiful little wraith, and his heart 
ached for her. 

“I’m sorry I had to add to your hard day, but I 
had to say this to-night.” 

“It’s all right. I must ask you not to speak to 
me of it again until after to-morrow night. I need 
all my strength for that ordeal. After that, we must 
turn our attention to this new problem, and work 
it out together, somehow.” 

“Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a disap- 
pointment to you, my dear,” he added. 

“Good-night. Take the letters — I could not 
bear to read them.” 

With an agonized look he took them and left 
her. 

“Dear Lord, I’m through with plots! I’m sick 
unto death of the secret,” she sighed, as she climbed 
into bed. 


XXVIII 


B AMBI kept to her room next day until it was 
time to meet the train on which Ardelia 
and the Professor were to arrive. It was 
due at four o’clock. She went to Jarvis’s door, but 
he was not in his room. She had heard nothing of 
him since his confession of the night before. 

Her telephone bell startled her, and she took up 
the receiver to hear Jarvis’s voice. 

“Bambi?” 

“Yes.” 

“How are you?” 

“All right.” 

“Don’t you want me to meet the Professor and 
Ardelia? There’s no need of your going up to 
Grand Central.” 

“I’d rather go thank you, Jarvis. Where are 
you?” 

“At the theatre.” 

“Anything the matter?” 

“Oh, no. I came to talk to the stage manager. 

334 


BAMBI 335 

He says everything will be all right to-night. Are 
you resting?” 

“Yes. I’ve had a quiet day, sitting on my ner- 
vous system. Where have you been?” 

“Walking the streets.” 

“Come home and take some rest. I’ll meet the 
train. Thank you just as much for thinking of it.” 

“I’ll be at the information booth at five minutes 
to four.” 

“All right.” 

She hung up the phone with a dazed face. The 
idea of Jarvis taking care of her, inquiring after her 
health, and trying to spare her! 

“Every blessed thing is topsy-turvy,” she ex- 
claimed aloud. 

At four o’clock she walked up to the booth, and 
there he stood, anxiously scanning the faces that 
passed. 

“Hello!” she said cheerfully. 

He looked grateful and smiled. 

“You look as if you had had a spell of sickness, 
you’re so white,” he said. 

“I’m all right, but you look like a nervous pros, 
case. Aren’t we pitiful objects for eminently suc- 
cessful playwrights?” 


336 


BAMBI 


“I suppose one gets used to this strain in time,” 
he said, taking her arm to help her through the 
crowd. 

No sooner had the train come to a stop than they 
saw Ardelia’s huge frame descend from the car, 
holding a dress-suit case in each hand. After her 
came the Professor, looking very small and shrunken. 
Ardelia saw them afar, and waved the heavy suit- 
case in the air like a banner as she hurried toward 
them. 

“Howdy, Miss Bambi? Howdy, Mistah Jarvis? 
Heah we is.” 

“Bless your old hearts!” said Bambi, hugging 
them both. 

“How are you, children?” the Professor inquired. 

“We’re fine! Did you have a comfortable time on 
the trip? Why did you sit in the day coach, father?” 

“De Perfessor, he won’t set in de’ chaih cah, 
cause’n dey won’t let me in dere, an’ he’s ’fraid he 
fergit to git off less’n he was ’longside ob me.” 

“But the train stops here — it doesn’t go any 
farther. My! Ardelia, you do look stylish!” 

“Yas’m. Wait until yo’ see my noo black silk. 
I’se got me a tight skirt, an’ a Dutch neck — Lawzee, 
honey, but dis ole niggah’s gittin’ mighty frisky.” 


BAMBI 


337 


She and Jarvis had an argument about the bags. 
She insisted upon carrying them herself, and indig- 
nantly refused the help of the coloured porter. 

“Go way f’um heah, boy. Yo’ reckon I gwine 
trust yo’ all wid ma’ noo silk dress an de Perfessor’s 
dress suit.^ No, sah!” 

She kept them laughing all the way to the club 
with her tales of their difficulties and excitements in 
getting off. Her exclamations on everything she saw 
were convulsing. When they arrived at the club, and 
she discovered that she was to have the little room 
next to Bambi’s, her satisfaction was complete. 

Bambi ordered the entire family to repose on its 
respective backs for an hour before they dressed for 
dinner. So they parted to obey orders. For that 
hour Bambi held herself firmly upon her bed, com- 
pleting her plans. They had agreed, she and Jarvis, 
that if there should be a call for the author, they 
would take it together, and Jarvis would speak. She 
was not sure just how she was to make the revelation 
to him of her dual personality. She decided to leave 
it to chance. 

Never in her life had she been so excited. The 
double responsibility as author and playwright 
shrank to second place in comparison with the fact 


S38 


BAMBI 


that this night she was to tell Jarvis of her love for 
him — hear him speak his love for her. 

Before the hour of enforced quiet was over she 
could hear Ardelia tiptoeing about her room. Pres- 
ently her head was cautiously inserted through the 
door. When she saw a hand waved at her, she 
bounced in. 

“Laws, honey, I’se so excited, I cain’t hoF my eyes 
shet. I got de Perfessor’s dress suit does all laid out 
smooth, wif de buttons in de shirt, an’ de white tie 
ready. Now, yo’ let me help yo’ all git dressed befo’ 
I begin to wrassle wid dat tight skirt ob mine.” 

“All right, sit down and hold your hands till I jump 
into my bath.” 

While Bambi bathed, Ardelia shouted all the 
gossip of home through the bathroom door. Upon 
Bambi’s reappearance, she insisted upon dressing her 
like a child. She put on her silk stockings and slip- 
pers, getting herself down and up with many a grunt. 
She constituted herself a critical judge in the hair- 
dressing process, and fussed about every pin. 

“Why ain’t yo’ all had one ob dese heah hair-fixers 
do yo’ haid?” 

“And make me look like a hair-shop model? Not 
much!” 


BAMBI 


339 


“Well, yo’ done party good.” 

“Wait till I curl it,” said Bambi, throwing up the 
window and popping her head out into the night air. 

“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake, yo’ curl yo’ haih in Noo Yawk 
jes’ lak yo’ do at home.” 

“Why not? This cold, damp air is just the thing. 
Now look at me,” she boasted, shaking her head so 
that the soft, curly rings fluttered like little bells 
about her face. 

“Yo’lldo,” saidArdelia. 

Bambi disappeared into the closet, and presently 
she popped out her head. 

“Ardelia, prepare to die of joy. When you have 
seen my new dress, life has nothing more to offer you.” 

“I ain’ gwine to die till after dis show.” 

Out of the closet Bambi danced, her arms full of 
sunset clouds apparently She held it up, and Ar- 
delia’s eyes bulged. 

“ Yo’ don’ call dat a dress? ” 

“Put it on me, and you’ll call it a poem.” 

“Dey ain’t nuthin’ to it,” she protested, as she 
slipped it over Bambi’s head. 

It was certainly a diaphanous thing of many 
layers of chiffon, graduating in colour from flame to 
palest apricot pink. It hung straight and simple on 


340 


BAMBI 


Bambi’s lithe figure, bringing out all the colour, the 
dash, the firelike quality in the girl’s personality. 
The fiush in her cheeks, the glow in her eyes, even the 
little curls, were like twisted tongues of flame. She 
whirled for Ardelia’s inspection. 

‘T know dat ain’t no decent dress, but yo’ sho’ is 
beautiful as Pottypar’s wife.’' 

“Who’s she.?'” 

“ She’s in the Bible ! ” 

Bambi laughed. 

“I look like the ‘fire of spring,’ ” she nodded to her 
reflection. “Of course I’m beautiful! This is the 
biggest, happiest night of my life! ” 

A boy came for the Professor’s clothes, and a little 
later that distracted gentleman presented himself to 
have his tie arranged, and to be looked over generally 
in case of omissions. 

“My dear!” he exclaimed at sight of his daughter. 

Aren't I wonderful?” 

He put his hand under her chin and tipped her face 
to him. 

“There is something about you to-night — ele- 
mental is the word — fire, water, and air.” 

She hugged him. 

“Oh; but you’ve got a surprise coming to you this 


BAMBI 


341 


night. You are about to discover other unsuspected 
elements in your offspring.” 

“My dear, I’m so excited now I’m counting back- 
ward. Don’t explode anything on me or I’ll lose 
control.” 

“The secret is coming out to-night.” 

“Is it painful.?” 

“No, it’s heavenly!” 

Jarvis rapped. 

“ May I come in.? ’ 

“Yes.” 

He stood on the threshold a moment, a truly mag- 
nificent figure in his evening clothes. 

“ Jarvis ! ” breathed Bambi. 

“Bambi ! ” exclaimed Jarvis, and they stood a-gaze. 
She recovered first. 

“Do you like me? ” she coquetted. 

He walked about her slowly, considering her from 
all sides. 

“ Ariel ! ” he said at last. 

“Oh, thank you, Apollo,” she laughed, to cover the 
lump in her throat at his awed admiration. 

They sent Ardelia’s supper up to her, and the rest 
of them made an attempt at dining, but nobody could 
eat a thing. Bambi talked incessantly from excite- 


342 BAMBI 

ment, and all eyes in the dining-room were focussed 
upon her. 

Ardelia was in a tremor of pride when they went 
upstairs again. She shone like ebony, and grinned 
like a Hindoo idol. They admired her, to her heart’s 
content, and she descended to the cab in a state of 
sinful pride. 

Although they were early, the motors were already 
unloading before the theatre. They were to sit in 
the stage box, and as soon as the rest of them were 
seated Bambi went back on the stage to say good- 
evening to the company. The first-night excitement 
prevailed back there. Every member of the com- 
pany was dressed and made up a good half hour too 
soon. They all assured the perturbed author that 
she need have no fears, everything would go off in fine 
shape. Somewhat relieved, she started to go out 
front, when she ran into Mr. Frohman. 

“Good-evening. If you are as well as you look, 
you’re all right,” he smiled at her. 

“I feel like a loaded mine about to blow to pieces,” 
she answered. 

“ Hold on for a couple of hours more. Does Jarvis 
know yet?” 

“Not yet.” 


BAMBI 343 

He laughed and went on. Bambi returned to the 
box, where she sat far back in the corner. The 
house was filling fast now. More than a little interest 
was evinced in the strange box party of big Jarvis, 
the Professor, and Ardelia. Richard Strong nodded 
and smiled from a nearby seat. 

“We should have come in late, just as the curtain 
rose,” whispered Bambi. “We must not be so green 
again.” 

“Why so, daughter? ” 

“Then we wouldn’t be stared at.” 

‘ ‘ Are we stared at ? By whom ? ’ ’ 

The overture interrupted her reply. The seats 
were full now as high as the eye could reach the bal- 
conies. Bambi scanned the faces eagerly. Would 
they like the play? If they only knew what it meant 
to Jarvis and to her to have them like it! 

The curtain rose. For two full moments she could 
not breathe. The act started off briskly, and little 
by little her tension relaxed. She laid her hand on 
Jarvis’s knee and it was stiff with nervous concentra- 
tion. The first genuine laugh came to both of them 
like manna from heaven. 

“It’s all right,” Bambi whispered to Jarvis. He 
nodded, his eyes glued to the stage. 


344 


BAMBI 


Of all kinds of creative work, dramatic writing can 
be the most poignant or the most satisfactory. It is 
the keenest pleasure to see characters whom you have 
invented given life and personality if the actors are 
clever. The Jocelyns had the aid of practically a 
perfect cast. The sense of power that comes with 
the laughter or the tears of an audience aroused by 
your thoughts is a very real experience. Bambi 
“ate up her sensations,” as Strong had said. As the 
curtain descended after the first act the applause 
was instantaneous and long. 

“They like it,” Bambi said with a sigh. 

“Yes, thank God!” from Jarvis. 

“You told me not to take this seriously, Jarvis,” 
she reminded him. 

“Does anybody know who wrote this book?” the 
Professor inquired. 

“Not yet. We are to know to-night. I wonder 
where she is? ” Jarvis added to Bambi. 

“ I’ve thought that fat old one in the opposite box,” 
she said wickedly. “ Why did you ask, father? ” 

“It is a diverting idea. The girl is like you, or 
maybe it is the similarity of the names that suggests 
it.” 

“ What do you think about the play, Ardelia ? ” 


BAMBI 


345 


“Law, honey, ’tain’t no play-actin’ to me. It’s jes’ 
lak’ bein’ home wid yo’ an’ de’ Perfessor and Marse 
Jarvis. Dose folkses is jes’ lak yo’ all.” 

Bambi laughed outright. Ardelia was the only one 
who guessed. 

“I trust you do not compare me to that impractical 
old fiddling man,” the Professor protested to Ardelia. 

“ Sh ! Here’s the curtain ! ” warned Bambi. 

The second act went like a breeze. Laughter and 
applause punctuated its progress. The house was 
warming up. Bambi slipped her hand into Jarvis’s, 
and he held it so tight that she could feel his heart 
beat through his palm. There was no doubt about 
it at the end of the second act. It was going. The 
company took repeated curtain calls, smiling at the 
Jocelyns. 

“I’m grinning so I shall never get my face straight 
again,” Bambi said to Richard, who came to the box 
to congratulate them. 

“Looks like a go,” he said, cordially. 

Even Jarvis unbent to him, and insisted upon his 
sitting with them for the third act. Bambi added a 
smiling second. She had explained to Richard, in 
advance, why she did not invite him to share the 
box. 


346 


BAMBI 


“I am having a most unexpectedly good time/’ the 
Professor admitted to them all. 

Jarvis’s state of mind was painful as the last act 
began. In the next thirty minutes he was to meet 
the woman he thought he loved. Since his confession 
to Bambi the night before, a doubt had raised its 
head to stare at him as to the real depth of his feeling 
for his unknown inamorata. Had he really been 
moved by love, or was it only a need of sympathy for 
his hurt pride that had driven him to her? Bambi’s 
strange behaviour, her admission that she did not 
love Strong, most of all those moments when she lay 
in his arms — they had upset all his convictions and 
emotions. He paid no attention to the act at all, 
torn as he was as to what the night would bring him. 

He was aroused by storms of applause. The cur- 
tain went up again, and again; the company bowed 
solo and in a group. Then calls of “Author! 
Author!” were heard all over the house. Bambi 
clutched Jarvis’s sleeve and drew him back of the box. 

“ Go on ! You’ve got to go out and bow. You do 
it alone, Jarvis ” 

In answer he took her arm and propelled her in 
front of him, back on the stage. 

“Here they are! give them full stage!” said the 


BAMBI 


347 


stage manager, ringing up the curtain. “Now, go 
ahead, right out there!” 

He opened a door in the set and Jarvis and Bambi 
went on. There was a hush for a second, then a big 
round of applause. Bambi laughed and waved her 
hand. There was a hush of expectancy. 

“Now, Jarvis, go on!” she prompted him. 

Jarvis, cold as death, began to speak. He thanked 
everybody in the prescribed way, beginning with the 
audience, ending with the company. He said he was 
happy that they liked the play, but that he was mak- 
ing the speech under false pretences. All the credit 
for the success must go to two women, his wife and 

collaborator Here he turned to include Bambi, 

but to his astonishment she was gone. The audience 
laughed at his discomfiture, but he turned it off 
wittily. The other woman, the one to whom most of 
the credit was due, was the author of the book. She 
had so far hidden behind an anonymity, but he be- 
lieved she was in the house to-night, and it was to her 
that their congratulations should be offered. Cries 
of “Author! Author of the book!” with much 
clapping of hands. Jarvis stood there, scarcely 
breathing, cold sweat on his brow, waiting for her to 
come. The applause became a clamour. The door 


348 


BAMBI 


opened and Bambi floated in. She did not see the 
audience, her eyes were flxed on Jarvis’s face, and the 
strange expression she saw there. She came to him, 
put her hand in his, and smiled. He was so obviously 
nonplussed that the people grasped a new situation 
and were suddenly still. Bambi smiled at him and 
spoke: 

“Dear People: If you have had as much fun to- 
night as I have, we owe each other nothing! And 
the most fun of all is the astonishment of Mr. Jarvis 
Jocelyn, who discovers himself to be a bigamist. He’s 
married to the co-dramatist and the author, and he 
never knew it! That I wrote the book has been a 
secret until this minute. If you hadn’t liked the 
play, I never would have admitted that I wrote it. 
You’re the very nicest first-nighters I ever met, and 
we are both most grateful to you, the bigamist and I.” 

There was wild applause, flowers were tossed from 
the boxes, calls of “Brava!” greeted the little bow- 
ing figure clinging tightly to the big man’s hand. 
They finally made their escape to the wings, and 
Bambi turned to Jarvis for what was to her the real 
climax of the evening. 

He looked at her so strangely that she laid her hand 
on his arm. 


BAMEI 


349 


“You aren’t glad?” she questioned, anxiously. 

Some members of the company surrounded them 
with congratulations, and when they were free they 
had to hurry out to rescue the rest of the family. 

“ What did you think of the secret. Daddy? ” 

“My child, I am past all thought. I wish to be 
taken home, put to bed, and allowed to recover 
slowly. I have had a shock of surprise that would 
kill a less vigorous man.” 

“But you liked it? You were glad I did it? ” 

“I am so proud of you that I am imbecile. Let 
us go home.” 

Richard shook both her hands in silent congratula- 
tion. 

“Where is Jarvis? ” asked her father. 

A search failed to find him. Richard made a trip 
back on the stage, but he was not there. 

“We won’t wait, if you will put us into our cab,” 
Bambi said to him. 

He saw them all off, promising to send Jarvis along 
if he saw him. 

“What do you suppose became of him?” de- 
manded the Professor. 

But Bambi did not answer. All the triumph of the 
evening counted for nothing to her now. Jarvis had 


350 


BAMBI 


been hurt or angered at her revelation. He had 
deliberately gone off and left her, regardless of ap- 
pearances. She spent the night in anxious listening 
for his return, but morning found his rooms vacant, 
his bed untouched. Bambi’s heart misgave her. 


XXIX 


J ARVIS was never sure what happened to him 
after he came off the stage with Bambi. 
Something had exploded in his brain, and his 
only thought was to get away, away from all the 
noisy, chattering, hand-shaking people, to some 
quiet place, where he could think. 

On the way back to the box in Bambi’s train, he 
had been separated from her a minute, long enough 
to spy the stage door, to slip out and away. He 
headed uptown without design, walking, walking, at 
a furious pace. Bambi, herself, was the Lady of 
Mystery to whom he had offered his devotions. The 
thing which hurt him was that she had tricked him 
into declaring himself, probably laughed at his ar- 
dour. It made him rage to think of it. What had been 
her object? He could not decipher her riddle at all. 
If she wanted his love, she might have had it for 
the taking, without all this play-acting nonsense. 
There was no use in his ever expecting to understand 

351 


BAMBI 


352 

her or her motives. He might as well give it up and 
be done with it. 

He built up the whole story, bit by bit. Her mys- 
terious trips to town were in regard to the book, of 
course. The “ butter- ’n-eggs” money came from 
royalties. Strong had published the story in his 
magazine: hence their intimacy. His thought at- 
tacked this idea furiously, then he remembered 
Bambi’s words, “I love Richard Strong as my good 
friend, and in no other way.” 

There was no doubting the sincerity of that dec- 
laration. Besides, Bambi never lied. She had not 
deceived him, then, with any deliberate plan to 
alienate his affections so that she could be free to go 
to Strong. No light along that line of questioning. 

He went on, feeling his way, step by step, to the 
point of the dramatization of the book. Here he 
paused long. Surely he had not been her dupe here. 
He was Frohman’s choice as dramatist. But was he? 
She and Frohman had come to some understanding, 
because she had gone to see him the day the play was 
delivered. No, that could not be, for he found her at 
home when he returned. He could not find a piece 
to fit into the puzzle at this point. He went over 
their joint work on the book — her book. He 


BAMBI 


353 


understood, now, how she was so sure of every move, 
why she knew her characters so well. What a blind 
fool he had been not to see that Francesca was herself! 
How she had played with him about that, too. How 
she drew him out about the other characters. He 
stopped in his tracks as the last blow fell. The mu- 
sician was intended for a study of him — that hazy, 
impossible dreamer, with his half-baked, egotistical 
theories of his own divine importance. Why, in 
God’s name, had she married him if that was her 
opinion of him? His brain beat it over and over, to 
the click of his heels on the pavement. 

The fiddler was the Professor, of course. Any one 
but a blind man would have seen it. So she had 
made mock of them, the two men nearest to her, 
for all the world to laugh at! That she wanted to 
punish him for not coming up to her expectations, 
that he could understand, but why had she betrayed 
the Professor whom she loved? 

He reviewed the period of rehearsals — her sure 
touch revealed again. She knew every move. She 
even saw herself so clearly that she could correct the 
actress in a false move. She had held herself up for 
public inspection, too. He had to admit that. It 
seemed so shameless to him, so lacking in reserve. 


354 


BAMBI 


He urged his mind on to the night now passing, the 
night he had looked forward to, for so many months, 
as the first white stone along the road to success. 
Well, it had been a success, but none of his. Bam- 
bi’s — all Bambi’s. She had conceived the book, 
worked out the play, and rehearsed it, to a trium- 
phant issue. It was all hers! The only part he 
could claim was that Frohman had sent for him. 
But had he? Was it possible he had only humoured 
Bambi in her desire to give him a chance? He would 
find out the truth about that, and if it were so, he 
could never forgive her. 

He saw her coming toward him in reply to the calls 
for “Author!” her eyes fixed on him, shining and 
expectant! What had she wanted him to do? Was 
it possible she expected him to be pleased? 

Broad daylight found him far up toward the Bronx, 
weary, footsore, and hungry. When he came to 
himself he realized that he must send some word to 
the club of his whereabouts. He wrote a message 
to Bambi: 

“I shall not come back to-day. I cannot. You 
have hurt me very deeply. 


“Jarvis.” 


BAMBI 


355 


He put a special delivery stamp on it and mailed it. 
He found some breakfast, and went into the Bronx 
Park, where he sat down under the bare trees to face 
himself. 

In the meantime Bambi, after a sleepless night, 
was up betimes. At breakfast she protested that she 
was not at all worried. Jarvis had no doubt decided 
to celebrate the success in the usual mascuhne way. 
He would come home later, with a headache. 

“But Jarvis isn’t a drinking man, is he.^” the Pro- 
fessor inquired. 

“No, but it’s the way men always celebrate, isn’t 
it.^^” 

The Professor wanted the whole story of the writ- 
ing of the book, the prize winning, Mr. Frohman’s 
order, and all, so, after breakfast, she made a clean 
breast of it, and they laughed over it for a couple of 
hours. Then Jarvis’s message came. Her face quiv- 
ered as she read it. 

‘ ‘ What is it , dear ? Is i t J ar vis ? ’ ’ 

She nodded, the slow tears falling. 

“He isn’t hurt?” 

“Not physically hurt, but I’ve hurt his feelings. 
Oh, Daddy, I’ve made such a mess of it. I wanted 
Jarvis to be dazzled by my success, because he thinks 


356 BAMBI 

I’m a helpless sort of thing, and now he only hates 
me for it.” 

She broke down and wept bitterly. The Professor, 
distressed and helpless, took her into his arms and 
petted her. 

“There, there. Baby, it will work out all right. 
Just let us go home, where we’re used to things, and 
everything will look different.” 

“Yes, that’s it, we’ll all go home,” sobbed Bambi, 
wiping her eyes. 

“ Where is Jarvis.^ ” 

“ I don’t know. But I can leave word for him here 
that we’ve gone back home.” 

“Then we can get the two o’clock train. Nothing 
but misery comes to people in these cities.” 

By dint of much hurry they caught the train, 
Ardelia protesting up to the moment when the train 
started that they couldn’t possibly make it. Bambi 
sat, chin on hand, all the way, a sad, pale-faced 
figure. No one could suspect, to see her now, that 
she had been the brilhant flame-thing of the night 
before. Once the Professor patted her hand and she 
tried to smile at him, but it wasn’t much of a success. 

When they entered the house, and Ardelia bustled 


BAIVIBI 357 

about to get them some tea, Bambi sat dejectedly, 
with all her things on, among the travelling-bags. 

“Be of good courage, little daughter,” her father 
said. 

“Oh, Father Professor, are the fruits of success 
always so bitter — so bitter.^ ” she cried to him. 


XXX 


HE first week of the play went by, and it was 



an assured success. The royalty for the 
first seven days was a surprise, which would 


have thrown Bambi into raptures under ordinary 
circumstances. But the Bambi of these days and 
rapture were no longer playmates. 

There had been no word from Jarvis since that time 
of the first brief message. Bambi went about the 
house a thin, white-faced, little ghost, with never a 
song or a smile. 

“Fo’ Gawd, Perfessor, it makes me cry to look at 
Miss Bambi, an’ I don’ dare ask her what’s de mat- 
tah.” 

“I think we must just let her alone, Ardelia. 
She’ll work this thing out for herself.” But he, too, 
was alarmed at the change in her. 

The more she thought of how she had thrown away 
Jarvis’s love, the more she lacerated herself with re- 
proaches. Her fatal love of play-acting had brought 
her sorrow this time. How could she have done it? 


358 


BAMBI 359 

Why didn’t she see that Jarvis would never under- 
stand what made her do it, that he would resent it. 

Some days she was in a fury at him for not under- 
standing her. Other days she wanted him so that 
she could scarcely refrain from taking a train to New 
York and looking for him. In her sane moments she 
knew that the only thing she could do now was to 
wait. 

Richard Strong came down to dine and spend the 
night, and one thing he said added to her misery. 

“Jarvis stayed in town, didn’t he?” he remarked. 

“Yes.” 

“Looking after things there, I suppose? I passed 
him on the street yesterday, but he didn’t see me.” 

“You passed him yesterday?” breathlessly. 

“ Yes. The opening and the strain of the rehearsal 
knocked him out, didn’t it? He looked as gaunt as 
a monk.” 

“Jarvis takes things very seriously.” 

“By the way, how did he take your joke? ” 

She looked directly at him and answered frankly : 

“He didn’t think it was funny at all.” 

“Oh, that’s a pity.” 

“I’m through with jokes, Richard, through with 
them for all time,” she said, her lips quivering. 


360 


BAMBI 


“Oh, no — try one on me, I’d like it,” he laughed 
to cover her emotion, and changed the subject 
quickly. 

When he returned to town he called up the Froh- 
man offices, asking for Jarvis’s address. He was still 
at the National Arts Club, they assured him. So 
that evening he presented himself there unannounced. 
He found Jarvis alone in the reading-room, a book 
open before sightless eyes. He rose to greet Strong, 
with evident reluctance. 

“I’m glad to find you, Jocelyn. I have something 
particular to say to you.’ 

“So.? Sit down, won’t you.? ” 

“I’ve just come back from Sunnyside, where I 
spent the night. I wanted to settle the details of 
your wife’s next serial.” 

“Yes.” 

“Have you seen her since the opening night.? ” 

“No.” 

“I think she is either very ill, or very unhappy, 
possibly both. She seems such a frail little thing 
that one dreads any extra demands on her. I knew 
you stayed on to look after the business here, of 
course. . . . You know the dear, blind, old 

Professor. Naturally you are the person to look 


BAMBI 


361 


after her, and I thought it would be just like her not 
to say a word to you about it all, so here I am, playing 
tame cat, carrying tales. Go down to-night, Jocelyn, 
and take that girl away somewhere.” 

“They think she’s ill.^^” Jarvis repeated. 

“She looks it to me. If she were my wife, I’d be 
alarmed.” 

He rose as he finished, and Jarvis rose, too. They 
looked each other in the eyes. 

“Thank you!” said Jarvis. 

He suddenly realized, without words of any kind, 
that this man suffered as he did, because he, too, 
loved Bambi. He was big enough to come to her 
husband with news of her need. By a common 
impulse their hands met in a warm handclasp. 

“She needs you, Jocelyn,” Strong said. 

“You’re a good friend. Strong,” Jarvis answered. 

When he had gone, Jarvis hurried to his room and 
began to pack his bag. His heart beat like a trip- 
hammer with excitement. He was going to Bambi! 
She needed him. He had endured a week of the 
third degree, practised upon himself. He had peered 
into every nook and corner of his own soul. He 
knew himself for a blind, selfish egotist. He was 
ready now to fiini>: his winter garments of repentance 


362 


BAMBI 


into the fires of spring. He understood himself, 
though Bambi baffled him more than ever. Never 
mind. She needed him. Strong said so — and he 
was going to her. 

He was at the station an hour before the train left, 
pacing up and down the platform like an angry lion. 
Aboard the sleeper, and on the way, he tossed and 
turned in his berth in wakefulness. At dawn he was 
up and dressed, to sit in a fever of impatience while 
the landscape slowly slid by the car window. 

At Sunnyside he hurried along the deserted street, 
where only the milkman wound his weary way in the 
early morning. There was a hint of spring in the air, 
fresh and exhilarating, with a faint earth smell. 

The house lay, with closed blinds, still asleep. He 
let himself in with his latch-key, dropped his bag, hat, 
and coat in the hall, and rushed upstairs to Bambi’s 
rooms. No hesitation now. He would storm the 
citadel in truth. He opened her bedroom door softly 
and peered in. It was unknown country to him. 
The bed was empty. He entered and walked swiftly 
to the door beyond, where he heard a faint crackling, 
as of a fire burning. At the door he paused. 

She was crouched before a fire, cross-legged, her 
face cupped on her hands. In her pink robe and cap 


BAMBI 363 

she looked more like a child than ever. She half 
turned her head, as if feeling his presence, so he saw 
how pale she was, how black the circles round her eyes. 

“My little love!’’ he cried to her. “My little 
love!” 

She sprang to her feet, facing him; her hands went 
swiftly to her heart, as if a spasm shook her. As 
Jarvis came toward her, a great light in his face, she 
put her hands out to fend him off. 

“I want you to know that I realize just how silly 
and cheap and theatrical I’ve been. I didn’t mean 
to hurt you,” she began in a monotone, as if it tired 
her too much to speak. He tried to stop her, but she 
shook her head. 

“I have to say it all now. I cared so much when 
you came home that time, and after the first night I 
thought you didn’t care for me.” 

“My best beloved, let me ” 

“No, no — please. I was piqued and angry and 
I thought I could punish you by pretending to be the 
other woman you thought you were writing to. I 

wanted to make you care for her, and then ” 

“ It was you I cared for — you, you, you ! ” 

“I thought that, when you knew I was both of us, 
you’d be so glad ” She broke off into a sob. 


364 


BAMBI 


“lam, dearest, I am.” 

“I never meant to hurt you. This week has 
nearly killed me.” 

He took her into his arms, and sat in the big chair, 
holding her close, while she clung to him and sobbed 
out her heart. He kissed her hair, her wet eyes, and 
her lips, saying over and over, “Oh, littlest, I love 
you so, I love you so!” When the sobs ceased, he 
lifted her face to his. 

“I want to see the shine in your eyes, dearest, and 
then I want you to listen to me.” 

She drew his head down to her and kissed hlih. 

“The shine will come back now, beloved. Oh, 
Big” — she said with a sigh — “my old Jarvis.” 

“No, your new Jarvis, httle wife. The old, crazy 
Jarvis will be more to your liking. I may not under- 
stand you very well yet, but I know my need of you, 
my pride in you ” 

“And my need of you.^ ” 

“And your need of me We’re in step, now, honey 
girl — and we’ll march along together without any 
more misunderstandings, won’t we? ” 

“Oh, we will, if you’ll take short steps, so I can 
keep up.” 

“I’m the one to do the running now, Miss Mite. 


BAMBI 


365 


A famous novelist and a successful playwright!” he 
laughed, pinching her cheek. 

“None of it counts. The only title that means 
anything to me is Mrs. Jarvis Jocelyn.” 

His comment on that was inaudible. 

“Would you mind telling me just why you married 
me?” 

“Because I was a seeress, and foresaw this day.” 

More comment, inaudible. The door opened, 
cautiously, the Professor tiptoed in, followed by 
Ardelia, with a tray. At the sight of the two before 
him, engrossed in the inaudible comments, he stepped 
back into Ardelia and rattled the contents of the tray. 
Jarvis looked up and caught his astonished expression. 
He rose with Bambi in his arms. 

“ Good-morning, Father. Fm home,” he said. 

“Thank de good Lawd!” from Ardelia. 

“It’s Jarvis,” said Bambi, fatuously, patting his 
cheek. 

“I suspected that it was when I saw him,” the 
Professor admitted. “I’m glad that you’re back, 
and I hope you’ll stay. This child needs a firmer 
hand than mine.” 

“You’re speaking of a woman with a well-advanced 
career, Herr Professor Parkhurstl’ 


866 


BAMBI 


“ Ardelia, we are not needed. She is well. A dose 
of Jarvis Jocelyn was the correct prescription.” 

“Well, thank Gawd fo’ some sho’ nuff lovin’ at 
las’ ” said Ardelia, as she backed out behind the 
Professor, and closed the door. 



THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS 
GARDEN CITY, N. Y. 





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